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 12th of June: Neal Stephenson, L.A. SF noir, return to Central Station, cozy mysteries, Holmes vampires; Guillermo del Toro’s dark fantasies; Grateful Dead themed Weißbier; new music from Angel Olsen and Toot Monk, remembering Kelly Joe Phelps, all things Waterboys, and more
I woke well before dawn as I wanted to watch the Northern Lights, which have been particularly outstanding lately. Though none of the humans save Tamsin, our Hedgewitch, on the Estate joined me, but several of the Irish wolfhounds that guard our livestock accompanied me as well and even some of Tamsin’s owl companions flew low overhead. We, well at least we humans, found them fascinating as the wolfhounds and owls seemed to be playing a rather complicated chase game that even Tamsin admitted she hadn’t even a clue what it meant.
We later had breakfast back in the Kitchen nook created originally for members of the Neverending Session to play in the Kitchen – thick cut thrice smoked applewood bacon, blueberry waffles with butter and maple syrup, tea for me and Tamsin as well, and Border strawberries, the ones that start red as blood and turn white as bleached bone, as well. We both felt like in need of a very long walk to work it off, or a long nap … I however needed to put this together so both choices were put off for later consideration!
Although Gary notes that Neal Stephenson’s Termination Shock is a post-Covid novel, it is not about Covid or any other pandemic. ‘It is Stephenson’s entry into the growing oeuvre of SFF novels about people finally doing something about the climate emergency.’
Our music section this time has extensive archival coverage of the music of The Waterboys, so we’re also pointing you to Gary’s review of Mike Scott’s memoir Adventures of a Waterboy. Gary was pleasantly surprised by it. ‘The moment I opened this book about Mike Scott and started reading it was when I first realized that it was a memoir. And if you’ve read many musicians’ autobiographies, you’ll know why my heart sank. “Oh, great, another slog through a couple hundred pages of mediocre writing at best.” It didn’t take long for Mr. Scott to dispel that notion. And when I reached the end of Chapter 1, I said out loud, “This guy can really write!” Not just songs, but prose, too.’
Lis, who joins us this edition, thoroughly enjoyed a reissued classic mystery novel, Anthony Boucher’s Rocket to the Morgue, featuring LAPD Detective Lt. Terence Marshall. It has an SF tie-in, too: ‘… Marshall is investigating a locked-room attempted murder, questioning a selection of potential suspects from the Mañana Literary Society, the informal social circle of the science fiction writers living in and around Los Angeles at the time. For dedicated science fiction fans, this adds some extra fun, because these writers are mostly thinly disguised major sf writers of the period. However, if you’re only here for the mystery, you won’t notice, and it won’t distract from the story.’
‘I’ll admit, a couple of years ago I knew little about the genre of “comic fantasy,” ‘ our reviewer Joel said. By the time he’d finished the two volumes of editor Mike Ashley’s The Mammoth Book of Comic Fantasy, he was won over. ‘Together, this pair of books forms an eclectic, unique, and memorable collection of the type of odd short fiction you’d be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. Anyone looking for something different need look no further.’
Paul, another new reviewer, says “Lavie Tidhar’s Neom is a stunning return to his world of Central Station, twining the fates of humans and robots alike at a futuristic city on the edge of the Red Sea.”
Warner leads off with a cozy for us: ‘M.C. Beaton with R.W. Green’s Down The Hatch is a very nice entry in the Agatha Raisin series. While there is not a great deal of change to the status quo, that is at least as much a boon as a hindrance for a cozy little mystery. While not an ideal starting point for the series, overall it remains enjoyable and easy to recommend. Fans of the rest of the series will love it, and it wouldn’t hurt curious onlookers to give it a try.’
And another cozy mystery caught his eye: ‘Buried in a Good Book is a very nice beginning for a series. Tamara Berry includes a number of wonderful characters in the book, and a story that grips the reader enough to look forward to the twists and turns that come. A reader should check this out if they like cozy mysteries, and eagerly await the next volume.’
Next he has a mystery collection for us: ‘Rudolph Fisher’s The Conjure-Man Dies is an important piece of crime and mystery novel history. The tale itself is a splendid blend of drawing room mystery and look at the world of Harlem during the Great Depression, warts and all.’
He has a popular female detective for us: ‘Kerry Greenwood’s The Lady with the Gun Asks the Questions: The Ultimate Phryne Fisher Short Story Collection is pretty much exactly what it says on the cover. Featuring more than 16 stories related to the character, the fact the bulk of them had been pinted before might make some hesitate. Yet there are a handful of new stories within, as well as other added material, all in a tight little package.’
Chocolat! Peanut butter! Holmes vampires! He looked next at a works that combines the latter: ‘Christian Klaver’s Sherlock Holmes & Count Dracula is a mashup of two of the most well known figures in the history of publishing. While these two characters have been often combined, the myriad ways it can be done will mean a great deal of interest for new interpretations.’
A more classic mystery finishes off his reviews: ‘James Kestrel’s Five Decembers is a fascinating example of the historical mystery, and a surprisingly quality example of avoiding the mistakes that can often fall into a novel set during a war of the last century. It also combines the war novel and detective novel extremely well, leaving appropriate surprised and horrified at approrpiate moments while never quite feeling cheated. Easy to recommend to fans of old school noir and hardboiled mystery.’
Robert has a dark fantasy film for you to consider: ‘The films of Guillermo del Toro have often dealt with innocence in a corrupt world; sometimes the innocence is found in surprising places, as in Hellboy, in which a demon becomes a savior. He also plays with the idea of redemption through transformation in such a way that the concept becomes almost Wagnerian in scope. And in Pan’s Labyrinth, he hinges these ultimately profound themes on a child’s belief in fairy tales.
Of course, the most well-known film by Guillermo del Toro was Hellboy which gets reviewed here by Mia: ‘I really, really don’t like comic book adaptation films. I hated Christopher Reeves and the Superman films, the Batman films (with the exception of Batman Returns, which I liked due to Catwoman and the Penguin) made me cringe, and X-Men was barely so-so on my ratings scale. I skipped The Hulk entirely, at the recommendation of friends who used words like “ghastly” and “abomination,” and I have yet to sit through Spiderman or Blade. So you’re probably wondering why I’m the chosen reviewer for Hellboy, yes?’ Now read her review to see why she madly loved it.
I would feature this beer review by Denise just for the name of the company, Terrapin Beer Company, and the beer, Dancing Gummy Beer Hemp Cherry Berliner Weisse, but her opening riff is precious too: ‘I remember falling in love with German Weißbier years ago when I first visited Germany. I tried to re-create that experience at home, but could only find its much inferior cousin, the Belgian Wheat. Cue that sad trombone. Perhaps it’s the raw malt in the Belgian stuff, or the way Weißbier is often blended with Sprite or whatever lemon-lime soda on hand to make it extra refreshing. (Try Weißbier with a touch of grapefruit juice. TRUST ME.) Whatever it is, I was a sad panda for years, until my neck of the woods started getting the good Deutch stuff. Or, like Terrapin.’
Big Earl had mixed but overall positive feelings about The Acoustic Folk Box, a set of English acoustic folk music. ‘I’ve always had the view that compilations come in two shades: the first are uniform releases that stand as a cohesive whole; the second are generalist overviews, with listenable and skippable tracks. This four disc set from the fine folks at Topic falls into the latter category. I suppose trying to shoebox four decades worth of material from one incredibly broad folk tradition is bound to drop some clinkers for the sake of padding or filler. But overall this set is quite good, especially for people unfamiliar with the traditions it covers.’
David took a trip down memory lane with a two-CD set from Arlo Guthrie, Live in Sydney. ‘Telling tales is one of the things Arlo does best, and this new double CD set features many of his stories. Whether talking about his dad, or Cisco Houston, or singing the same songs after 40 years. His voice is sounding older, but he’s still an engaging speaker, funny and charming. And his stories are darned interesting.’
It was with sadness that we learned of the passing of the great American guitarist, singer and songwriter Kelly Joe Phelps, on May 31. Our archives contain several of Gary’s reviews of Phelps’s recordings including Shine Eyed Mister Zen, Sky Like a Broken Clock and its companion EP, Beggar’s Oil, and his final studio album Brother Sinner and the Whale. Gary also reviewed a live performance in Portland, Oregon.
Gary was a fan of Angel Olsen’s early albums, and he finds her new release Big Time a welcome return to her folk, country, and singer-songwriter roots. ‘Now in her mid 30s with new vistas of honesty and grief in her life, she comes back to a warmer, more intimate and vulnerable place with her music. Big Time is a country album of sorts, largely written in Southern California’s Topanga Canyon, that bastion of country-rock and folk, full of crying pedal steel guitar and pulsing organ, strummed acoustic guitars and languid waltz-time songs of love and loss and perhaps more love.’
Gary reviewed a new release from T.S. Monk and his sextet, a live album called Two Continents – One Groove. ‘After spending the ’70s and ’80s making soul and R&B music with various groups, drummer T.S. “Toot” Monk returned to his jazz roots in the early ’90s, and he’s been playing with one sextet and another pretty much continuously since then. This, surprisingly, is his first live release, and it’s a doozy.’
John wasn’t too excited about the Cowboy Junkies’ In the Time Before Llamas, an oddly titled album of live recordings made by the BBC. ‘The band are in fine form technically. The starts and stops of Bob Dylan’s “If You Gotta Go, Go Now” are pulled off flawlessly. The slow, sad shuffle of “To Love Is To Bury” suits Timmins’ hushed voice well – but too much of the album is made with that formula, and with too little deviation.’
Kim clued us in to The Man in the Moon Drinks Claret, an album by an obscure English electro-folk group with an even more obscure name. ‘Pyewackett were one of those groups that defied categorization: experimenting with English traditional material, early music from France and Italy, and electronic music. While playing as a dance band with a caller, they also played in concerts in the UK, and abroad as part of the British Council tours. It’s not surprising to learn that Pyewackett’s members met at university in the late 1970s, where their common interests led to a very creative ensemble with an entertaining repertoire.’
No’am was … less than thrilled with his advance review copy of The Waterboys’ A Rock In The Weary Land. ‘So what have you got? Mainly distorted vocals over a heavy rock beat. The opening “Let It Happen” adds a ghostly whistle to a gloomy chord sequence, and it’s easy to picture a graveyard in the middle of the night. God knows whether that is what’s intended by the lyrics, because there aren’t any printed lyrics and Mike Scott’s screech isn’t too easy to decipher.’
Peter settled down one June to review … an album of Christmas music. We’ll let him explain, in his review of Robin Bullock, Al Petteway and Amy White’s A Midnight Clear. ‘For an album subtitled ‘A Celtic Christmas’ it’s ironic that I am writing this review at Summer Solstice, 21st June. I don’t think I had realised before researching this album how different Christmas is on the two sides of the Atlantic, and indeed elsewhere around the world. In the U.K., it is perceived as a celebration (in the eyes of the Church) in the Americas it is a holiday, although we both have the same theme. The Winter Solstice (December 21st), the beginning of the sun’s return, was celebrated for many centuries before the birth of Jesus Christ as a pagan winter festival. The Church devised Christmas as we know it to encompass or replace sun worshipping. It does not really matter that much, but at the time of Christmas with the warmth expressed with the feeling of goodwill you get when singing Christmas carols is very real — wherever you are.’
Scott enthusiastically reviewed the Warsaw Village Band’s People’s Spring, their first widely released album and second overall. ‘As could probably be guessed by the band’s name, the Warsaw Village Band hails from Poland’s capital city, but plays the folk music that developed in its homeland’s villages. What might surprise people, though, is how this group of six young Poles generally prefers to play these old songs and tunes. Fiddlers Katarzyna Szurman, Sylwia Świątkowska, and Wojciech Krzak; bassist Maja Kleszcz; and drummers Piotr Gliński and Maciej Szajkowski describe their style as “hardcore folk” and perform with an aggression and lack of subtlety typical of punk bands.’
Scott also covered the Warsaw Village Band’s next outing, entitled Uprooting. ‘One of the few relative weaknesses of People’s Spring was the lack of originality in the vocal arrangements; the women always sang together and in unison. For Uprooting the band gave the vocals a much stronger emphasis. While roughly half the tracks on People’s Spring were instrumentals, only “Polka From Sieradz Region” on the new album features no vocals. In addition, the three women do quite a bit of nice harmonizing, and Kleszcz and Sobczak also turn in some fine lead vocal performances.’
Our Stephen turned in an indepth, nearly track-by-track review of albums by Mike Scott and The Waterboys from 1983 through 2000. Complete with some suggestions for further listening and even further reading for each album. He had, it seems, a lot to say. ‘After two decades as a prolific recording and performing artist Mike Scott is still perceived as something of an enigma. The movers, shakers and self-appointed scene setters of the music business have often viewed him as deliberately contrary, a loose canon. Reviewers, confused by his frequent stylistic changes of direction have sung his praises and poured out scorn and derision in almost equal measure. Many of his faithful fans have cast him in the mould of a mythical hero – a Celtic soul, a poet, a journeyman mystic with a rock ‘n’ roll heart. It’s a role that he appears to neither court nor feel entirely comfortable with.’
He also reviewed three other albums that compile rarities and live sessions by The Waterboys, because of course he did. It’s a shorter but still thorough look at Fisherman’s Blues Part Two, The Live Adventures of The Waterboys, and The Secret Life of the Waterboys 81-85. ‘Away with all cynics and skeptics, Mike Scott is not a man to lightly dismiss his own legacy, or to insult the intelligence of his audience with sub-standard Waterboys music. Consequently, these albums are much more than mere “fillers.” ‘
Our What Not this time is Gus in a letter to Anna describing a folkloric aspect of this Scottish estate: ‘There are everything from ashrays (sea ghosts) to wulvers, a sort of werewolf but, alas, no trolls in Scotland. There is however now a splendidly ugly and rather large troll under the bridge over the river that’s below the Mill Pond. How it got there is a story worth knowing which is why I’m telling you in this letter.’
Finally, if nothing makes you feel better than a good sad song, you’re in luck! We’ll send you off with a lovely tear-jerker from the Canadian folk duo of Luke Doucet and Melissa McClelland, who perform as Whitehorse. They played their song ‘Die Alone’ (it was on their August 2017 release Panther In The Dollhouse) at Toronto’s legendary Massey Hall.