Book Log 52/2009 - Silver May Tarnish

Andre Norton & Lyn McConchie – Silver May Tarnish
Tor, 2005

First of all let me say that I'm a sucker for all things Witch World. Andre Norton is one of the first SF/F authors I ever read and in particular her Witch World books fired my developing imagination when they were first reissued in the 1970s in the UK.

This is stand-alone Witch World book set in the Dales. Though Andre Norton’s name is on this, from the intro it’s obvious that it’s all Lyn McConchie’s work as she plays in Norton’s Witch World and this suffers because although McConchie can take the world out for a spin and create characters and situations, she can’t add to canon. Nothing she writes can alter Norton’s timelines and history. It’s a ‘more of the same’ book, but at the end of it, nothing has changed in the world.

Lorcan, the son of a minor noble house, is orphaned when raiders come to his Dale. He's forced to grow up living on the charity of distant and not very pleasant relatives until his position becomes untenable and he’s cut loose. After ending up in a hostage situation he's rescued by Meive of Landale, the only survivor of her village, Honeycoomb, and a wise-woman-in-training who talks to bees. Lorcan and Meive gradually gather survivors and try to build a new community together, but as the original raiders from Alizon retreat, the war-torn country is beset by the dispossessed who are almost as dangerous as their previous enemy. In a world where so much has been destroyed the people who have little become a target for those who have nothing at all, and the people who have everything want more.

This is in some ways a slight book though it's very true to the originals. Norton’s characters and plots often outshine her dialogue and sometimes a new author manages to retain the best part of Norton whilst avoiding the cod-historical vocal inflexions which are the least attractive part of Witch World. Sadly not this time. McConchie is – if anything – too true to Norton’s formidable style and voice. I enjoyed this, but at the end of it can compare it with eating a bowl of ice cream. It was nice while it lasted, but I didn’t really need it.

Book Log 52/2009 - Silver May Tarnish

Andre Norton & Lyn McConchie – Silver May Tarnish
Tor, 2005

First of all let me say that I'm a sucker for all things Witch World. Andre Norton is one of the first SF/F authors I ever read and in particular her Witch World books fired my developing imagination when they were first reissued in the 1970s in the UK.

This is stand-alone Witch World book set in the Dales. Though Andre Norton’s name is on this, from the intro it’s obvious that it’s all Lyn McConchie’s work as she plays in Norton’s Witch World and this suffers because although McConchie can take the world out for a spin and create characters and situations, she can’t add to canon. Nothing she writes can alter Norton’s timelines and history. It’s a ‘more of the same’ book, but at the end of it, nothing has changed in the world.

Lorcan, the son of a minor noble house, is orphaned when raiders come to his Dale. He's forced to grow up living on the charity of distant and not very pleasant relatives until his position becomes untenable and he’s cut loose. After ending up in a hostage situation he's rescued by Meive of Landale, the only survivor of her village, Honeycoomb, and a wise-woman-in-training who talks to bees. Lorcan and Meive gradually gather survivors and try to build a new community together, but as the original raiders from Alizon retreat, the war-torn country is beset by the dispossessed who are almost as dangerous as their previous enemy. In a world where so much has been destroyed the people who have little become a target for those who have nothing at all, and the people who have everything want more.

This is in some ways a slight book though it's very true to the originals. Norton’s characters and plots often outshine her dialogue and sometimes a new author manages to retain the best part of Norton whilst avoiding the cod-historical vocal inflexions which are the least attractive part of Witch World. Sadly not this time. McConchie is – if anything – too true to Norton’s formidable style and voice. I enjoyed this, but at the end of it can compare it with eating a bowl of ice cream. It was nice while it lasted, but I didn’t really need it.

Book Log 53/2009 - A Game of Kings (including questions for other writer/readers).

Dorothy Dunnett – A Game of Kings – Lymond Saga #1
1962

At last - I've managed to read my first Dorothy Dunnett - and something of Lymond, much recommended - including by some of the folks on my flist. Frankly I haven't quite decided whether I like it or not because although there are many things to recommend it (and I can see why people love it so much and why Dorothy Dunnett is so revered as a writer) there are also things about it that irritate me intensely as both a writer and a reader.

I've been trying to work out why, and I suspect that this book is a slow-burn and I haven't digested it properly yet. It may, indeed, be a book that needs to be read twice, the second time with hindsight, because Dunnett plays it as close to the chest as Lymond does - often with the deliberate and sole intention of confounding the reader. I'll give you an example later, but first an overview. Warning - SPOILERS AHEAD. (In other words I will be giving away more than Dunnett does, so if you haven't read it and you want to unravel the mystery inch by inch stop reading this right now.)

Francis Crawford of Lymond, scholar, soldier, musician, minor nobleman, accused traitor and outlaw - returns to 16th century Scotland after five years in exile. He assembles a band of rough mercenaries and proceeds to hire out his services whilst pursuing his own agenda - an agenda largely kept hidden from the reader, but obviously to do with something in his past. It's a very slow reveal - almost too slow at times. Dunnett keeps Lymond's intentions hidden from her readers - at times with little subtlety - avoiding showing us much of Lymond's point of view and instead having us rely on unreliable witnesses, particularly Will Scott and Lymond's brother, Richard, the blind Lady Christian and some of Lymond's enemies. We see his emotions secondhand, but we don't live through them with him except at a distance.

We gradually come to realise that Lymond's apparently erratic actions are not random, though we are kept guessing as to whether he's actually guilty of the treason and murder he's accused of, particularly of the death of his own sister, Eloise. Dunnett doesn't present Lymond as very likeable, especially at first. He may be charismatic, but he’s often his own worst enemy, stubborn and uncommunicative (sometimes to the point of stupidity). He has an appalling habit of speaking in quotations from classical literature - often in French or Latin. Occasionally he lapses into Spanish or broad Scots. The prose is convoluted and flowery - almost chewy, and had this not been highly recommended to me I might not have continued beyond the first few pages. I’m glad I did, but at the moment I’m ambivalent about tackling the rest of the (six book) Lymond saga.

This is a novel of convoluted politics and the setting is the tumultuous border between Scotland and England as - following Henry VIII's death - England has a boy king while Scotland has a four year old girl (Mary) as queen with the dowager queen (her mother) in charge of the court. As with many historical novels, there's a good range of real people and real politics, but Lymond and his family are completely fictional. I'm not well up on Scottish history, so I'm not sure what restrictions have been placed on the story by actual historical events (except for the very obvious ones).

As a writer studying a much greater writer I find myself wondering if I could get away with doing to my readers what Dunnett has done to hers and I fear the answer is no. There's no real reason for Lymond's motives to remain hidden except that the author refuses to show them to us for the sake of creating a mystery... sometimes writing round them so deliberately that it's obvious she's playing with our heads.

For instance at one point we are in Will Scott's point of view when he goes into a skirmish, is hit on the head and sinks into oblivion. In the next scene we are at Boghall where the Lady Christian, blind from birth, but competent, sensible and totally admirable, takes custody of an anonymous, insensible, injured man, apparently hit on the head. She's blind so we don't get a description of the man and her servant, Sym, who finds him, gives a very cursory description. Lymond has striking fair hair, Will Scott is a red-head, but we're not sure whether that red is gold or auburn so from Sym's description to Christian, the unconscious man with a bump on his head could well be Scott. At first the injured man is amnesiac, but as he recovers he regains his memory, though he refuses to tell Christian his name. He's charming, educated and erudite and - since we don't know Lymond very well yet - still might easily be either Will Scott or Lymond (or might even be a completely new character as we're still fairly early on in the first part of the book). During his whole sojourn at Boghall the man's identity is hidden from the reader regardless of whose viewpoint we are in. Irritatingly we are never told, even when the ex-amnesiac returns to normal life. As the rest of the mystery unfolds we do realise, by implication, that it was Lymond. However this is not absolutely confirmed until a couple of hundred pages later. And then we discover that Christian knew all along it was Lymond because voices are the focus of her sensory world. At that point (and only at that point) we learn that she grew up with Lymond and recognised his voice immediately. This latter fact was deliberately withheld.

As a reader I want to unravel a mystery alongside my characters, not in spite of them. I don't mind being ignorant of essential facts if my characters are ignorant, but being kept in the dark by the author whenall the characters know more than I do, is something I find offensive. I feel manipulated - headfucked.

We don't get the revelations that tie the whole story together until the very end of the book, Lymond's trial for treason in Edinburgh. When they come they make sense of the rest of the story and are wholly satisfying, but is it too little, too late?

I haven't decided whether I've forgiven Dunnett enough to read the next book in the saga. I suspect I'll be missing out if I don't, but will it be a deliberately manipulative as this one? Is that just her style? Okay flist-folks. You love Lymond. Let rip. Tell me what I missed and why I need to read on.

Book Log 53/2009 - A Game of Kings (including questions for other writer/readers).

Dorothy Dunnett – A Game of Kings – Lymond Saga #1
1962

At last - I've managed to read my first Dorothy Dunnett - and something of Lymond, much recommended - including by some of the folks on my flist. Frankly I haven't quite decided whether I like it or not because although there are many things to recommend it (and I can see why people love it so much and why Dorothy Dunnett is so revered as a writer) there are also things about it that irritate me intensely as both a writer and a reader.

I've been trying to work out why, and I suspect that this book is a slow-burn and I haven't digested it properly yet. It may, indeed, be a book that needs to be read twice, the second time with hindsight, because Dunnett plays it as close to the chest as Lymond does - often with the deliberate and sole intention of confounding the reader. I'll give you an example later, but first an overview. Warning - SPOILERS AHEAD. (In other words I will be giving away more than Dunnett does, so if you haven't read it and you want to unravel the mystery inch by inch stop reading this right now.)

Francis Crawford of Lymond, scholar, soldier, musician, minor nobleman, accused traitor and outlaw - returns to 16th century Scotland after five years in exile. He assembles a band of rough mercenaries and proceeds to hire out his services whilst pursuing his own agenda - an agenda largely kept hidden from the reader, but obviously to do with something in his past. It's a very slow reveal - almost too slow at times. Dunnett keeps Lymond's intentions hidden from her readers - at times with little subtlety - avoiding showing us much of Lymond's point of view and instead having us rely on unreliable witnesses, particularly Will Scott and Lymond's brother, Richard, the blind Lady Christian and some of Lymond's enemies. We see his emotions secondhand, but we don't live through them with him except at a distance.

We gradually come to realise that Lymond's apparently erratic actions are not random, though we are kept guessing as to whether he's actually guilty of the treason and murder he's accused of, particularly of the death of his own sister, Eloise. Dunnett doesn't present Lymond as very likeable, especially at first. He may be charismatic, but he’s often his own worst enemy, stubborn and uncommunicative (sometimes to the point of stupidity). He has an appalling habit of speaking in quotations from classical literature - often in French or Latin. Occasionally he lapses into Spanish or broad Scots. The prose is convoluted and flowery - almost chewy, and had this not been highly recommended to me I might not have continued beyond the first few pages. I’m glad I did, but at the moment I’m ambivalent about tackling the rest of the (six book) Lymond saga.

This is a novel of convoluted politics and the setting is the tumultuous border between Scotland and England as - following Henry VIII's death - England has a boy king while Scotland has a four year old girl (Mary) as queen with the dowager queen (her mother) in charge of the court. As with many historical novels, there's a good range of real people and real politics, but Lymond and his family are completely fictional. I'm not well up on Scottish history, so I'm not sure what restrictions have been placed on the story by actual historical events (except for the very obvious ones).

As a writer studying a much greater writer I find myself wondering if I could get away with doing to my readers what Dunnett has done to hers and I fear the answer is no. There's no real reason for Lymond's motives to remain hidden except that the author refuses to show them to us for the sake of creating a mystery... sometimes writing round them so deliberately that it's obvious she's playing with our heads.

For instance at one point we are in Will Scott's point of view when he goes into a skirmish, is hit on the head and sinks into oblivion. In the next scene we are at Boghall where the Lady Christian, blind from birth, but competent, sensible and totally admirable, takes custody of an anonymous, insensible, injured man, apparently hit on the head. She's blind so we don't get a description of the man and her servant, Sym, who finds him, gives a very cursory description. Lymond has striking fair hair, Will Scott is a red-head, but we're not sure whether that red is gold or auburn so from Sym's description to Christian, the unconscious man with a bump on his head could well be Scott. At first the injured man is amnesiac, but as he recovers he regains his memory, though he refuses to tell Christian his name. He's charming, educated and erudite and - since we don't know Lymond very well yet - still might easily be either Will Scott or Lymond (or might even be a completely new character as we're still fairly early on in the first part of the book). During his whole sojourn at Boghall the man's identity is hidden from the reader regardless of whose viewpoint we are in. Irritatingly we are never told, even when the ex-amnesiac returns to normal life. As the rest of the mystery unfolds we do realise, by implication, that it was Lymond. However this is not absolutely confirmed until a couple of hundred pages later. And then we discover that Christian knew all along it was Lymond because voices are the focus of her sensory world. At that point (and only at that point) we learn that she grew up with Lymond and recognised his voice immediately. This latter fact was deliberately withheld.

As a reader I want to unravel a mystery alongside my characters, not in spite of them. I don't mind being ignorant of essential facts if my characters are ignorant, but being kept in the dark by the author whenall the characters know more than I do, is something I find offensive. I feel manipulated - headfucked.

We don't get the revelations that tie the whole story together until the very end of the book, Lymond's trial for treason in Edinburgh. When they come they make sense of the rest of the story and are wholly satisfying, but is it too little, too late?

I haven't decided whether I've forgiven Dunnett enough to read the next book in the saga. I suspect I'll be missing out if I don't, but will it be a deliberately manipulative as this one? Is that just her style? Okay flist-folks. You love Lymond. Let rip. Tell me what I missed and why I need to read on.