
Patricia A. McKillip has left us. One of the finest writers that has ever graced our presence having written The Forgotten Beasts of Eld which won a richly deserved World Fantasy Award nearly fifty years ago, and Solstice Wood, one of my favourite works by her which garnered a Mythopoeic Fantasy Award for Adult Literature as did Something Rich and Strange, another favorite work of mine.
Paul, one of our reviewers, offers us his thoughts on her.
To have power over a thing, name it. To name a thing, know it. To know a thing: become it. — Patricia McKillip‘s “Camouflage”
If the world of fantasy is a series of baronies, duchies, emirates, city states, and kingdoms, and every fantasy author has a place of their own in fantasy, there is a special realm. A realm of subtle magic, and of beautiful music. Where the people are a full part of the land, a rich place where its creatrix has imbued the place with immersive detail. Where bards sing and myth and legend wind into the fabric of the land, the soul of the people who inhabit it. A land of poetry and power, always wondrous to cross the border and visit.
This is the realm of Patricia McKillip.
In the mid to late 1990s, I started a serious campaign to really understand a genre I had already been reading for 20 years: science fiction and fantasy. I had been led by chance, choice and suggestion up to that point but in the middle of the 1990s I decided to be more systematic in my reading of SFF. Not being connected to a wider community of science fiction, I used the tools I had on hand, and leaned on my issues of Locus to tell me what I should be reading – by looking at finalists and winners of various awards. The Hugo Award, the Nebula Award, the Locus ward, and among others, the Mythopoeic Award.
And so among the many fine authors and their work I thus started to discover would be Patricia McKillip. It seems to be a truism for me that if I really like an author’s work, no matter how much better their subsequent work is, I bond very strongly with the first work of theirs I read. This is definitely true of McKillip. When I saw in that long ago issue of Locus that she had won the Mythopoeic Award for Song for the Basilisk, I went and dutifully picked it up at Forbidden Planet. (I was blessed, living in NYC, to have a dedicated SFF bookstore I could rely on).
The lush cover reminded me a bit of Tom Canty’s work (it is actually Kinuko Y. Craft). The lush and richly descriptive and immersive prose reminded me some of the more poetic aspects of Tolkien, or the descriptive power of early Zelazny, or Peter S Beagle. I fell for the story of Caladrius/Rook/Griffin hard and well. For all that I love sorcerers and martial heroes, having a bard as a hero was something relatively unusual in my reading. It’s a careful and well drawn thing, a writer who knows the power of words, the power of music, the power of language and revelation, to use a character who is raised to be all of that to point and counterpoint the very techniques that the author uses to bring the story to life. And it was a revelation to have a hero deal with the villain not by a swordfight, or a magical contest, but with the power of music. And even there, the denouement is not as straightforward or direct as you might think. It’s a high wire balancing act that charmed me into her worlds, firmly and forever.
I then subsequently started reading McKillip’s work, backwards and since, from the Celtic themed Riddle-Master books all the way to the last work of hers I read, “Camouflage,” a story in Jonathan Strahan’s The Book of Dragons, introducing us to yet another everyday character, Will Fletcher, who is better at hiding his talents even from himself than even he knows. It is a story of hope and building and working toward a future.
I find that I have not read as much of McKillip’s short fiction as I have her novels. However, her short stories, especially the aforementioned and most accessible “Camouflage,” I feel ARE a good way for readers who might be reluctant or nervous to immerse themselves into McKillip’s work and just want to try a taste of her down to earth characters, her love of language, of poetry, of evocative description, of characterization and beats of the heart that draw you to love and fall in love with her characters. In an age and time where a lot of epic fantasy is frenetic, kinetic, and dark, there is a more stately and beautiful pace that McKillip’s work evokes. It is not all light and sweetness; there can be depth and darkness in her work, but her worlds are fundamentally more optimistic and brighter than a large share of fantasy today.
Sadly, now, McKillip and her work have come to an end. Her influence (never her shadow, she illuminated, not overshadowed her peers) runs to fantasy today, even in this age of grimdark fantasy and gritty shades of grey. Authors like Michele Sagara, Julie Czerneda, Daniel Abraham and others carry on her tradition, extending and reinventing and exploring what McKillip first illuminated, extending the boundaries of fantasy in her vein.
I will close with a quote from early in A Song for the Basilisk, that just shows the sheer power of her ferocious literary
“Play the song you made for the picochet. See if you can find it on the harp.”
He tried, but the sea kept getting in the way of the song, and so did the hinterlands. He gazed at the floating hills, wondering what he would see if he walked across them, alone through unfamiliar trees, crossing the sun’s path to the top of the world. Who would he meet? In what language would they speak to him? The language the sea spoke intruded then, restless, insistent, trying to tell him something: what song he heard in the seashell, what word the rock sang, late at night under the heavy pull of the full moon. His fingers moved, trying to say what he heard, as the sea flowed like blood in and out of the hollows and caves of the rock, trying to reach its innermost heart, as if it were a string that had never been played. He came close, he felt, reaching for the lowest notes on the harp. But it was his own heart he split, and out of it came fire, engulfing the rock in the sea.
Requiscat in pace, Patricia McKillip.
Down the decades, we’ve reviewed most everything Patricia McKillip published, so it’s only fitting that we devote this edition’s book section to her extensive catalog.
‘It’s quite gratifying to revisit books from one’s childhood,’ Camille said. ‘Actually, it can be gratifying or disastrous. I’m pleased to say it was the former for me with Patricia A. McKillip’s Moon Flash. Originally published by Argo Books in 1984, Moon Flash is one of a duology, though this first book is absolutely readable as a stand-alone novel.’
She enjoyed The Moon and the Face almost as much as its prequel Moon Flash. ‘While not quite as spontaneously joyous and lovely as the first book, The Moon and the Face is still a great little novel. As with Moon Flash, I was almost overcome with gratitude for the lack of antagonistic forces and the complete absence of evil intentions. The characters are presented with challenges, yes, and death and fear, physical hardships and emotional turmoil, even grief and sadness. But never ill-intent nor maliciousness of any sort.
She didn’t find The House on Parchment Street particularly convincing as a book for young readers. ‘There’s no doubt this book is intended for younger audiences. It might best fit the sensibilities of what’s now commonly referred to as a middle grade novel, but it doesn’t have anything close to the depth or complexity — of language, of situation, of characterization — most modern readers expect of a young adult novel.’
Cat was not much impressed with McKillip’s one attempt at a science fiction novel. ‘Fool’s Run is (mercifully) long out of print. I purchased a copy online for a amazingly cheap price – less than the cost of a latte at your favorite coffee shops where the seats are ever-so-comfy and the music playing is ever-so-cool. The sort of place that beckons to you to settle in with a good novel for a few hours of reading while sipping great coffee and perhaps a bit of that carrot cake with sour cream frosting. Sound good? Not with this novel, as no amount of caffeine and sugar will keep you awake.’
Cat said he became a fan when he read the short story collection Harrowing the Dragon. ‘I must admit that I was not particularly a fan of hers ’til I started reading these tales, but I am now! Oh, I picked up a novel or two by her, but they didn’t really capture me fancy ‘tall so I put them aside in favour of other reading material as I’m wont to do when, as there always is around here, more reading material than there is possibly time to read all of it.’
Deborah found great comfort in The Bell at Sealey Head. ‘As usual for a waltz, the pace of the novel is slow and measured. Although the resolution of the mystery is surprising and satisfying, there are no shockingly breathless moments in the tale. This is comfort reading at its best: consistent, multi-faceted, and layered, all wrapped up in McKillip’s typically intoxicating and evocative language.’
Elizabeth was frustrated at the tale McKillip told in Od Magic. ‘The time-honoured battle between cautious, restricting conservatism and wild, chaotic artistry is hardly new, and becomes almost redundant when stretched to fit a novel like Od Magic. If sufficiently pared-down, it might have made a passable short story, but as it is, this novel really is odd. And not in the good way.’
Grey was immediately drawn to the story of Nepenthe, a foundling raised by librarians. ‘McKillip excels at creating magical realities that are consistent, without any glitches or sentimentality. Often, her novels end like the oldest fairy tales and ballads, beautifully but strangely; the reader senses that “The End” is governed by magical rules, not by any human logic. In Alphabet of Thorn, there are magical happenings and resolutions, but the fate of the human characters is a human fate, familiar.
Grey was pleased with McKillip’s particular use of magic in The Book of Atrix Wolfe. ‘Like Ursula Le Guin in the Earthsea stories, McKillip uses the metaphor of magic to tell a deep truth about power: the more we try to bend circumstances to our will, the more inevitable forces we set in motion; they will find their ends, with or without us.’
Of The Changeling Sea, Grey waxed poetic. ‘This is a pocket-sized paperback book of 137 pages. The story inside is small but potent, like a well-crafted spell. It makes perfect sense, but it’s fairy tale sense, not reasonable sense. To use a poetry metaphor, McKillip’s style isn’t like iambic quadrameter or pentameter, but rather like Gerard Manley Hopkin’s sprung rhythm.’
Mike had high praise for another of her works: ‘Patricia McKillip, a World Fantasy Award winner, writes with a sparse style that evokes great magic with the barest of words. She possesses a fine knowledge of funky musical instruments and the endearing qualities of musicians. Her power is that of place; it defines and motivates her characters. Song for the Basilisk explores how the expression of that power is shaped by the predilections and history of those who wield it.’
Richard reviewed McKillip’s final story collection from 2016: ‘With Dreams of Distant Shores, Patricia A. McKillip delivers something that is not quite your typical short story collection. While the point of entry is a series of shorter pieces, the collection builds to and is anchored by the lengthy novella “Something Rich and Strange”, with an essay on writing high fantasy orthogonal to the usual tropes. The book then ends with appreciation of McKillip’s work (and the stories in the collection) by Peter S. Beagle, an elegant coda to a warm, thought-provoking collection.’
Music is quite important in McKillip’s The Bards of Bone Plain, as Robert makes clear: ‘I’ve noted before the importance of music in the works of Patricia McKillip. I’ve probably also said something about the poetic quality of her writing. I know I’ve mentioned the way magic infuses her stories, context rather than event. That’s all here, in The Bards of Bone Plain, a story about poetry and music and magic.’
‘I was surprised some while back to discover that Patricia A. McKillip’s Riddle-Master Trilogy was marketed as young-adult fantasy when it was first published,’ Robert said. ‘I don’t think I’m particularly backward in terms of understanding what I read, and I was in my thirties when I first read the books (which have earned an unchallengeable place on my “reread frequently” list), and I knew there were things I was missing. Even in a recent re-reading, the trilogy is a complex, subtle and evocative story that lends itself to much deeper examination than one might expect.’
He was even more impressed with In the Forests of Serre, which draws on Slavic folklore. ‘I’ve been reading a lot of McKillip lately, and In the Forests of Serre is one of the most impressive of her books I’ve come across. She brings us her signature themes – love, redemption, growth and maturation – with a slightly different slant.’
‘I’ve been reading Patricia A. McKillip’s fiction for more years than I care to admit at this point,’ Robert said in his review of Kingfisher. ‘It was always different, in one way or another, from her wry and sometimes slapstick humor to her very contemporary sensibility, no matter the universe she was exploring in any given story, to the sometimes devastating honesty of her characters, to the magic of her telling. It was always unique, a matter not so much of no one else being able to tell that story in quite that way, as of that it would never occur to anyone to try.’
Robert also looked at Solstice Wood, a sequel of sorts to Winter Rose though you do not read that novel first: ‘McKillip has always been a writer whose books can themselves be called “magical,” and it’s even more interesting to realize that she seldom uses magic as a thing of incantations and dire workings, or as anything special in itself. It just is, a context rather than an event, and perhaps that’s the way it should be.’
Robert reviewed an old favourite: ‘The Forgotten Beasts of Eld was the first book by Patricia A. McKillip that I ever read. Two things struck me about it: it was different than any other fantasy I had read to that point, most of which were in the high-minded, seriously heroic mode, but written in “realistic” prose; and it was funny. I didn’t know fantasy could be funny.’ (Dragon? Of course there’s a dragon.)
Reviewing Winter Rose, Robert said, ‘The story is told in McKillip’s characteristically elliptical style, kicked up an order of magnitude. Sometimes, in fact, it is almost too poetic, the narrative turning crystalline then shattering under the weight of visions, images, things left unsaid as Rois and Corbet are drawn into another world, or come and go, perhaps, at will or maybe at the behest of a mysterious woman of immense power who seems to have no fixed identity but who is, at the same time, all that is coldest and most pitiless of winter.’
Sara reviewed The Sorceress and the Cygnet & The Cygnet and the Firebird and found them, well, magical. ‘The Cygnet series is a pair of books worthy of McKillip’s reputation for the numinous and lovely. Both are full of magic, though they are as different as two sides of the same golden coin.’
Tracy, an admitted fan, found nothing to change her opinion in Ombria in Shadow. ‘This is a wonderful story with many intriguing characters who are much more than they appear to be. Not least among them is the city itself, a city that hides and holds its own secrets, a city that shifts and changes. A city of stairs that lead nowhere, of half-seen glimpses through hidden doorways, a shadow city that overlays this city. What is the origin and what does it mean, this story of a change, when the shadow city becomes real and the real becomes shadow?’
Vonnie noted that ‘McKillip uses the sea in many of her books, but in Something Rich and Strange the sea is not only the setting and a metaphor for mystery and magic and change – the sea is the subject. The book begins with protagonists Megan and Jonah (how is that for an apropos name?) experiencing a sea change after a long winter during which their lives had settled into a routine dependent on the shore. But the sea brings ambiguity, too. Just as the sea has the power to transform the people and things near it, the characters slowly realize that humanity has the power to overwhelm the sea, defeat it and kill the life in it. Moreover, man is doing so.’
We’ll let the author herself have the last word, as it were. Deborah J. Brannon conducted an interview with Patricia A. McKillip for us in 2008, in which she generously discussed the purpose of fairytales, her writing process, and much more.

We start off our video reviews with a Tenth Doctor story, ‘The Unicorn & The Wasp’ which Cat reviews: ‘One of my favourite episodes of the newer episodes of this series was a country house mystery featuring a number of murders and, to add an aspect of metanarrative to the story, writer Agatha Christie at the beginning of her career. It would riff off her disappearance for ten days which occurred just after she found her husband in bed with another woman. Her disappearance is a mystery that has never been satisfactorily answered to this day.’
An English country house murder mystery also gets reviewed by David: ‘As traditional as the genres he chose might have been, in Altman’s hand they were turned upside-down, and sideways. Warren Beatty and Julie Christie became anti-hero and opium addict in Altman’s “western” McCabe & Mrs. Miller, set to the music of Leonard Cohen! A laconic Elliott Gould became Raymond Chandler’s private dick Phillip Marlowe in an updated LA for Altman’s “detective” classic The Long Goodbye. Robert Altman has been the most American of directors, and now, in Gosford Park, he takes on the English country house murder mystery. Altman’s Agatha Christie film? What could this mean?’

Carletti’s Jakobsen Coffee Time chocolate collection pleased Denise: ‘Danish chocolates?Don’t mind if I do! Especially when the package itself gives me a great excuse to indulge. Coffee time? Yes please! And while these chocolates would go great with coffee, I had mine with a stout, and then a mug of green tea. I was pleased.’
Robert has a single source chocolate for us: ‘Lolli & Pops Madagascar Sambirano comes in a flat 2-ounce bar, with a lightly incised pattern and company logo on the front, but no scoring deep enough to break the bar into bit-size pieces. It’s certainly worth sampling — if you can find it. Apparently Lolli & Pops, which has been largely a boutique confectioner with outlets in shopping malls, has been forced to closed a number of stores. So, happy hunting.’
With the summer reading season here, you may be looking for some light reading, maybe a graphic novel series … Cat has just the thing for you: ‘So can I say 500 Essential Graphic Novels will help assist me – or you, for that matter – with finding new series? Quite well I’d say, given that it covers more than three hundred fifty authors, four hundred artists, and yes, five hundred graphic novels.’
Or perhaps you’d like to start on a classic series like Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman. Rebecca did, and wrote up a lengthy omnibus review for us. ‘Gaiman’s series has provided us with a modern mythology. There are many college students wandering around today who are a little fuzzy on Zeus and Athena, but they can name all seven of the Endless, and quote Gaiman as if he were Euripides (mind you, they’ll be able to name Loki’s first wife, but only because she’s in Sandman, and they’ll be surprised to hear that he had another). The Sandman is slowly sinking into the consciousness — and unconscious — of a generation, and providing them with a framework for examining themselves and their worlds. And I think that’s a good thing.
Gary wrote about a multi-media experience from a group of Serbian artists known as Vartra. ‘Basma is the second album by the Serbian folk collective called Vartra. The band makes music that’s fairly characterized as neo-Slavic doom folk, a tribal, rhythmic, shamanic blend of drone and beat, heightened by electronics, rattling percussion, didgeridoo and vocals that veer from soft chants to eerie wails. It’s easily the most dramatic music I’ve heard in many a season.’
‘If you are as fond of overtone singing as our former staffer Big Earl Sellar was, you might be interested in New Asia’s Chorchok. They’re from the Altai Republic in southwestern Siberia,’ Gary says. Be advised, however: ‘Before I go any further, I want to note that this is most definitely folk rock music, not traditional Altai music, even though New Asia employs many traditional instruments.’
For some reason my thoughts have turned to Finland and Sweden, so in a stroll through the Archives I was on the lookout for reviews of music from there. I found some choice offerings, I think you’ll agree.
Brendan liked two very different Nordic discs, one from Sweden and one from Finland: Ale Möller’s The Horse and the Crane, and Myllärit’s In the Light of the White Night. The former, he said, is ‘ …a thoroughly entertaining, thoroughly entrancing set of music made for a theatre concert based upon a set of novels by Sara Lidman about the extension of the railway into Northern Sweden. Filled with the stark instrumentation and ethereal sounds that seem to pervade the best Swedish music, this suite really does feel like the perfect soundtrack to a railway tour through glaciers.’ Of the latter: ‘These folk are as Old World in charm and sound as they come, giving us a smooth, elegant, and very evocative style of playing. In fact, like their compatriots Värttinä, they even manage to make polkas entertaining to non-dancers.’
Cat is a big fan of Swedish singer Emma Hårdelin of Garmarna, whom he considers, ‘… one of a select group of female Nordic vocalists whom the ancient Nordic deities blessed with magic!’ So what did he think of her other group Triakel’s debut disc Sånger från 63º N? ‘Liking the music of Garmarna more than just a bit, I was a bit hesitant to hear what she sounded like in another group as I was afraid that it might not equal the work she did in that group. Happily, I was wrong, quite wrong.’
Judith loved the Finnish-American music on Al Reko and Oren Tikkanen’s The Finn Hall Recordings, which combined four self-released cassette tapes onto two CDs. ‘These boys aren’t the stereotypical polka band, but they do play a folky version of the Euro-polka spectrum of mazurkkas, valssis, jenkkas, and of course polkkas. …This collection provides a wonderful and charming view into the worlds of the old Finnish-American immigrant music and of “Finnish country music” in Mother Finland.’
Judith also had some thoughts about Lopunajan Merkit and Itku Pitkasta Ilosta, two albums by Timo Rautiainen & Trio Niskalaukaus, better known for their Finnish ‘cult ethno metal’ than anything like folk. ‘Is this music folk? Not any less so than singer/songwriters who set their songs to pop arrangements, or for instance, Fairport’s “Red Tide.” ‘
Gåte’s Iselilja was their second disc reviewed by our Swedish writer Lars, and he liked the Norwegian folk rockers’ sophomore effort every bit as much as he did their debut. ‘Gåte have succeeded in developing their own brand of music. If you are a folk purist you should stay well out of earshot, but if you like people using traditional music as a starting point and then pouring a great number of musical influences into a melting pot before finishing the product you should check Iselilja out
‘It’s hard to develop warm and fuzzy feelings for an instrument that produces the sounds of prolonged belching,’ Liz said of Tapani Varis’s album called simply Jews Harp. ‘Nonetheless, I was prepared to try.’
Naomi enjoyed the music and humor dished up by Swedish quartet Samla Mammas Manna on their CD Kaka: ‘The group uses their instruments as well as their voices to provide the hilarity. This takes a great deal of talent to pull off with a live audience, but they seem to have it mastered! There are moments of comedic relief all over this CD, interspersed with some really great Nordic jazz.’
Robert said a CD from a Danish/Swedish quartet was perhaps too eclectic for its own good. ‘Strå is Fylgja’s second CD, and presents a sometimes problematic stylistic mix. There are traditional songs from Sweden, Norway, and Ireland, as well as songs composed by members of the group.’

Our What Not this time is the question of what is your favourite Tolkien. Like many others, The Hobbit is the favourite of Tobias Buckell: ‘Oh, it’s The Hobbit, hands down. I mean, I adore the novel because unlike Tolkien’s later work, it’s not overburdened. It’s a lean, well paced adventure that takes you on this incredible tour through Tolkien’s countries and peoples and mythologies. I read it every couple years just to experience it all over again. I know The Lord of the Rings is more popular in common culture, but I struggled through it and tried to pick them up recently and just found that I really kept waiting for things to just move. Frankly I thought the movies were a big improvement, although there were parts just kept limping along, like the end, that reminded of reading the books.’

Given our Nordic music this edition, Let’s finish off with Garmarna, a Swedish group founded in nineteen ninety after several of them who were friends saw traditional Swedish music performed in a film. Yes that’s what they claim happened. Emma Härdelin, their vocalist, would join them several years after that. ‘Vedergällningen is from a Swedish concert they did some twenty years ago.
On second thought, also for your listening pleasure, the 2015 Førde Traditional and World Music Festival 25th Anniversary Sampler edition offers us up the String Sisters of which Emma is a member, playing ‘The Champagne Jig Goes To Columbia and Pat & Al’s Jig’ which they performed at that festival. Isn’t it simply amazing?
What’s New for the 7th of August: lots of SF books and audiobooks; Euro-folk, Indian classical, and some jazz, plus lots of African music; jerky; Jonah Hex; and more!
There’s six green men here on Kinrowan Hall, the most noticable being the ones on the two doors to the Green Man Pub. They’re not the traditional ones of an archer dressed in green which likely is a reference to Robin Hood, but rather are the foliate heads Lady Raglan talked about in her essay. Mind you it was complete shite that she invented the term green man, as it predated her article by centuries.
The earliest reference to them in the Estate journals is by Estate Gardener Lady Alexandra Quinn in a Sleeping Hedgehog note that they had been carved in the late eighteen hundreds. It appears that the doors they are on were designed and constructed with them in mind as they’re carved right into the six inch thick oak.
Another one’s carved over the main doorways to the new Library constructed about the same time. And yes, these too were called green men, sixty years before her article was published. The Library itself has no name other than simply the Kinrowan Library and Alex, as she was known, says in the article that they, including the final ones that are over the two main entrances to Kinrowan Hall are all intended to be potent wards to keep everyone safe.
Now let’s turn to this edition …
Cat has a review of the BBC Dune audiobook: ‘I’m assuming that you know about Dune, so I’ll not detail it here. Did you watch Farscape? If you did, you’ll remember that everyone save the U.S. astronaut thrown into that weird setting spoke with a variety of Australian accents? Well welcome to the Macmillan Audio full cast adaptation of the Hugo Award winning novel where everyone has a British accent. Snark by me notwithstanding, this is a superb production well worth the time to listen to it.’
And he looks at another audiobook, one by Alastair Reynolds in his Revelation Space Universe franchise: ‘A great audiobook consists of two needed ingredients, one obviously being the story itself, the second being (also obviously) the narrator. As to the story, Reynolds is among the best writers of sf I’ve had the pleasure to encounter. The Prefect is the first of two novels involving Tom Dreyfus, Prefect for the Panoply, the law enforcement service that oversees matters in the Glitter Band. That’s the ten thousand orbital habitats circling the planet Yellowstone in the Epsilon Eridani system, and the height of human civilization at the time (some four centuries from now), a civilization richly detailed by the author in sometimes excruciating detail.’
Gary takes a deep dive into Ancestral Night, the first volume in Elizabeth Bear’s White Space series. ‘I love a good space opera and Ancestral Night is a very good one. Bear mentions both C.J. Cherryh and Iain Banks in her Acknowledgments, and I definitely see traces of both those space opera forbears in this book’s themes and accoutrements.’
He went on to review the sequel saying: “Elizabeth Bear is playing a long game in Machine, the second installment in her White Space series. The series is shaping up to be an exploration of those dark places – not to say dystopian spaces – that are always found around the edges of any apparent utopia. Via that path she’s casting her eye on some of the current ills facing humanity in the 21st century — and tossing out some thoughts about how we might resolve some of those issues before it’s too late.”
An Ian Macdonald novel garners this comment from Grey: ‘Today, I picked up King of Morning, Queen of Day again just to refresh my memory before writing this review. After all, it doesn’t do to refer to a book’s main character as Jennifer if her name is actually Jessica. But my quick brush-up turned into a day-long marathon of fully engaged, all-out reading. I’ve been on the edge of my seat, I’ve been moved to tears, I’ve laughed, I’ve marked passages that I want to quote.’
Phil Brucato’s Ravens in the Library: Magic in the Bard’s Name Is reviews by Leona: “ Most anthologies are notable for their contents; the authors, the concepts, the theme, the prose, the artwork. This one is all of that, and more: proof that magic can and does happen. Magic, as editor Brucato notes, that “flows from grim necessity.” In this case, the desperate need of noted singer/songwriter S.J. Tucker, who was diagnosed with a serious illness in 2008. And had no health insurance. And had to be in the hospital rather a lot for a while. As Brucato says: “You do the math. And if you’re not sweating afterward, you’re not doing it right.”
Cat to the Dogs was warmly regarded by Naomi: ‘To be honest, I owe Ms. Murphy an apology. The first paragraph of this novel elicited an audible groan from me, and some fast second thoughts. After all, who wants to read about a woodrat dangling (still warm by the way), from the mouth of the protagonist, even if he does happen to be a tomcat? Well, I persevered, and by the end of the first page was intrigued, if not engrossed, in the unfolding tale
Robert has a look at the first two volumes of a new series by Tanya Huff, Peacekeeper: ‘Tanya Huff has started a new series, a spin-off of her Confederation novels, again featuring now former Gunnery Sergeant Torrin Kerr leading a group of her former Marine comrades. Kerr may be out of the Marines, but she hasn’t left fighting for the Confederation: she and her group are now free-lancing doing those jobs that need to be done but that no one wants to admit any involvement: call it “black ops,” with plausible deniability.’
Steven Brust, a musician himself, brings us, in collaboration with Megan Lindholm, The Gypsy, which — well, as Robert puts it: ‘There are three brothers who have become separated. They are the Raven, the Owl, and the Dove. Or perhaps they are Raymond, Daniel, and Charlie. They are probably Baroly, Hollo, and Csucskari. One plays the fiddle, one plays tambourine, and one has a knife with a purpose.’ There’s a lot more to it, of course, so check it out.
He also has a review of Brokedown Palace by Brust: ‘This is a novel, with all the elements that make a novel what it is. I’ve said before that I think Brust is one of the master stylists working in fantasy today, and this one only confirms that opinion. Even though Brust is describing fantastic things, his mode is realist narrative, and a very clean and spare narrative it is, although more poetic than most of his work. While his characteristically sardonic humor and his flair for irony are readily apparent, there is a magical feel to it, in the sense of things that cannot be, and perhaps should not be, explained.’
The live action Jonah Hex was, to put it charitably, quite awful. A true stinker of a film in all ways. Cat has a much better choice for us in the animated Jonah Hex released by DC Showcase. A mere handful of minutes, the short script by Joe Lansdale – a master of horror if ever there was one – it is, Cat says, everything one wants in a story about this scarred bounty hunter.
Denise sampled three jerkys and all were winners in her opinion. Read on for her tasting notes!
Beer infused beef jerky? She says it’s definitely a winner: ‘Righteous Felon crafts a whole lot of jerky. But I sunk my teeth into their Victorious B.I.G. because I needed to know what beer infused jerky tasted like. This one’s a collaboration with PA’s Victory Brewing Company, using their Storm King Imperial Stout to infuse this jerky. So this collaboration is all PA, and it feels like a match made in beer and beef heaven.’
Next up is some very meaty jerky: ‘I get a carnivorous hankering every now and then. And when I’m too lazy to throw a hunk of animal muscle on the barbie, I grab some jerky. I love dried meat; it’s got a lot of flavor, a lot of protein, and while the majority of jerky chews like shoe leather, I tough it out. Because mmmm, meat. When I saw Chef’s Cut Real Jerky Co. had Smoked Beef Chipotle Cracked Pepper Jerky that’s described as “premium meats smoked to tender perfection”, I knew I had to give ’em a try.’
Finally she finishes off with Golden Island’s Sriracha Pork Jerky: ‘Pork jerky! I’ve had beef and bison, but never pork. So I dug into this bag, curious…and hungry. The first piece out of the bag, and I got something that was stringy and thinly sliced. This is a jerky you’re gonna have to chew.’
Rachael was enthusiastic about Alan Moore’s Promethea: Book One. ‘Promethea’s lush artwork, by J. H. Williams III, Mick Gray, and Charles Vess, matches the mythic depth and sardonic fillips of Alan Moore’s writing. The book is a sophisticated exploration of the roots of legend and creativity that also functions as a wickedly funny parody of every genre from superhero comics to science fiction to fairy tales, a moving story of female friendship, and a platform for scenes in which a gorgeous and scantily clad superheroine kicks whisker-twirling demons to kingdom come. Literally.’
Gary turned in an in-depth review of a big various artists compilation disc of modern European folk music called Folk and World Music Galore Vol 1. ‘Those releases include such a wide range of styles, from Finnish chamber jazz to Siberian overtone singing, bouncy Slavic electro-folk to tear-jerking Bosnian sevdah, somber Icelandic folk to Finnish folk metal and punked-up klezmer. “Sometimes a little overview is needed,” label head Christian Pliefke says with typical understatement.’
Gary found himself drawn into Manel Fortià Trio’s Despertar by one track in particular, “Espiritual.” ‘It’s a deep, bluesy gospel number with a groove that won’t quit, a perfect example of the power inherent in the simple form of the jazz trio. In this case the multi-award winning Spanish pianist Marco Mezquida and French drummer Raphaël Pannier are so perfectly in sync with each other and with bassist and leader Manel Fortiá, and the song itself so beautiful … it’s irresistible.
Gary has a preview of a new album and U.S. concert tour by Indian sitarist Purbayan Chatterjee, which will include an Aug. 14 concert at Carnegie Hall, to celebrate India’s 75 years of independence. Read more about it here.
A lot of music comes out of Africa or has African roots. And we’ve reviewed a lot of it over the years. Here are a few from the Archives:
Big Earl had mixed reactions to four discs of music from Africa, but he especially loved one of them, Badenya les Freres Coulibaly’s Seniwe. ‘The music of Seniwe is a percussive wash of the most incredible rhythms I have ever heard! More than willing to play with tradition, the band plays far more “in-your-face” than many similar outfits, probably with the understanding that playing in this manner makes them more appealing to a wider audience. … A fantastic disc: the soundtrack to the intrinsic desire of human beings to dance.’
Next, Big Earl reviewed a couple of Rough Guides and found them agreeable: ‘The Rough Guide To The Music of Africa is one of those nightmare discs for any compiler to put together: what to put on, what to leave off, and how to work on the often dicey recording quality of African recordings. This disc’s compilers did a very good job, providing not only a disc that a novice would like, but a decent comp for anyone familiar with African music in general … The Rough Guide to Congolese Soukous, on the other hand, is musical dynamite.’
Big Earl also wrote about three other Rough Guides African collections covering the music of Senegal & Gambia, Marrabenta Mozambique, and Unwired: Africa. ‘I always find it a tad embarrassing to listen to Rough Guides releases. I mean, I should really just get off my butt and track down the original releases, instead of relying on these compilations. They are generally quite well done, though, and in our convenience-oriented society, they unfortunately fit the bill quite nicely.’
David was moved by The Rough Guide To Highlife: ‘Before Paul Simon broke out with Graceland in 1990, not many people outside of Ghana and Nigeria had heard of highlife music. Simon had been given a cassette of some highlife music, and mentioned it as an influence on that album. The highlife influence was more strongly felt on Simon’s next album, Rhythm of the Saints, but whatever you think of these musical stews, you have to admit he got people to listen to some new music! Rough Guides though, goes right to the source!
Gary found much diverse music on three discs of music with African roots, The Rough Guides to the Music of Mali & Guinea, South African Jazz, and Master Fiddlers of Dagbon: ‘As befits its size, history and incredibly diverse populations, Africa produces an amazing variety of music. These three discs give just a glimpse of the scope of that diversity, from traditional music created on gourd instruments, to Cuban, Brazilian and North American-influenced jazz, to a blend of traditional griot songs with modern pop stylings.’
Gary also reviewed three discs from Putumayo that he found diverse and likable: Mali to Memphis, Louisiana Gumbo, and The Oliver Mtukudzi Collection. ‘These three discs from world music purveyors Putumayo present a study in how the music of America and Africa have influenced each other.’
Jennifer reviewed four Rough Guide collections of music rooted in Africa and found them to be quite good overall: ‘Sometimes extremely specific in their subject choice, sometimes considerably more general, the thing that stands out most about this collection is its no nonsense approach. The music appears to be chosen for its indisputable value and standing within the particular tradition or genre. The albums are presented without fuss or gimmick, but will always be winners, thanks to the quality of music.’
Rebecca took a deep look at a CD from Smithsonian/Folkways, Wade in the Water Volume 1: African American Spirituals. ‘Spirituals were the sacred music of American slaves, originating as early as the 1700s. They became especially important in the southern states in the nineteenth century, just before America’s Civil War (1861-1865). Enslaved people were often allowed to sing as they worked in the fields, as long as the songs did not express overt discontent with their lot in life, so they sang spirituals. The words sounded like descriptions of Heaven, references to Bible stories, and generally harmless religious rejoicing. But the spiritual was a deeply subversive form of music.’
Richard gives us a good introduction to a popular dance music that arose in North Africa in his review of Rebel Music of Algeria: The Rough Guide to Raï. ‘There are no slow songs on this CD – raï is always dance music at heart, even when its lyrics express serious ideas. The word “raï” is variously translated as opinion, judgment, advice, objective, point of view, will or outlook. The lyrics are usually repetitive but have a meaning and reflect, in however debased a form, an ancient tradition of philosopher poets putting their ideas into verse.’
Richard also reviewed a Putumayo various artists’ collection, North African Groove. ‘This particular compilation is the seventh in Putumayo’s “groove” series, by which they appear to mean that there is no track that you couldn’t dance to. The influences that overlay the basic sounds of Arab North Africa are varied, but seem to be overwhelmingly Cuban and European, much less North American or Sub-Saharan.’
What Not comes courtesy of Mia who looks at four of Folkmanis’s creations, to wit Blue Dragon, Green Dragon, Three Headed Dragon, and Phoenix and she says, ‘Oooooh, shiny! I have a box of dragons here! Folkmanis makes the best puppets ever, and their dragons are some of the finest of their puppets.’
Our coda is Aaron Copland’s ‘A Fanfare for The Common Man’ as performed by the Rolling Stones. Yes the Rolling Stones! A number of bands including Styx and Emerson Lake and Palmer have adapted it for use. So here’s their decidedly offbeat version.