Eating Muffins in an Agitated Manner

Sebald: Austerlitz

Posted by Sari

Austerlitz is the last novel of W.G. Sebald, a German author and academic who lived most of his adult life in England and was killed in a traffic accident in 2001. Austerlitz knocked a book out of my list of 32, first time this happened since I drew the list up four years a go.

Austerlitz is a strange narrative. It is a story of how its nameless narrator meets in Antwerp one Joseph Austerlitz, and keeps meeting him on and off through years. During their meetings Austerlitz and the narrator discuss about architecture, history, culture and ultimately Austerlitz's quest to find his own past.

Sebald writes in long sentences without chapters or paragraphs. I was expecting that getting into the rhythm of the text would be a chore like it is for me with Proust or later James, but somehow Sebalds narration rolled almost hypnotically from page to page interrupted only by the blurry and enigmatic photographs. It was easy to slip into the narrative even in a bus or a restaurant, slow one's heart to beat to synch with the novel.

As a historian, the themes of memory and history are naturally something I easily gravitate to, but in this case those were almost incidental. Though Sebald's vision is in itself revelatory, it is the way he echoes the themes of repression and memory in the structure and language of the book that leaves me almost speechless. In word and picture he talks from the beginning to the end about holocaust without really mentioning it : ”...I came on a glorious early summer's day to the city of Antwerp, known to me previously only by name. Even on my arrival, as the train rolled slowly over the viaduct with its curious pointed turrets on both sides and into the dark station concourse, I had begun to feel unwell, and this sense of indisposition persisted for the whole of my visit to Belgium on that occasion. I still remember the uncertainty of my footsteps as I walked all round the inner city, down Jeruzalemstraat, Nachtegaalstraat, Pelikaanstraat, Paradijsstraat, Immerseelstraat and many other streets and alleyways...” His metaphors, images, digressions and words criss-cross and connect through history making the past, ours and Austerlitz's into integral part of the present.

Through fortresses, libraries and railway stations, tree-roots and burial grounds Sebald gently hammers his passionate but unsentimental meditation on 20^thcentury Europe to the consciousness of his readers, reminding us of our shared history, and the need to remember. Do yourself a favour and read Austerlitz. It might change the way you look at literature.

Patrick Rothfuss: The Name of the Wind, The Wise Man's Fear

Posted by Sari

Patrick Rothfuss: Name of the Wind, Wise Man's Fear

When I was younger I used to love big fantasy series. Thousands and thousands of pages of adventures and worldbuilding. There was no bad there. LotR was and is the defining novel of my life, and after that I read everything I got hold of from Donaldson, Modesitt and Eddings to to Feist, Tad Williams and Hobb.

Then I sort of went off the format. I tried some really awful ones, like Brooks and Jordan, and some really well recieved ones, like Martin and Erikson, but nothing really took. Name of the Wind had been waiting on the shelves for a year or two, and I don't suppose I would have gotten around to reading it without Tähtifantasia Award. It was a 2011 nominee and as a member of the shadow-panel of the award at Finncon, I was forced to tackle the daunting tome.

And I was pleasantly surprised. Name of the Wind, and especially the sequel, Wise Man's Fear have their share of problems but for a first time in years, I really got into the groove, and ended up ordering part two when I was only half way through part one. Kingkiller Chronicles is the story of Kvothe, whom we meet at the beginning as a humble innkeeper Kote, telling his life story to a travelling chronicler. Though Kvothe is still young, he is already a legend, who – according to the blurb on the back – has stolen princesses back from the sleeping borrow kings, burned down the town of Trebon, spent the night with Felurian and left with his sanity and life intact, has been expelled from the university at a younger age than most people are allowed in, tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during the day, talked with Gods, loved women and written songs that make the minstrels weep. Busy life, one might say.

A hypercompetent protagonists growing up and having adventures is the meat and potatoes of fat fantasy. Nothing new, exciting or different here. The hook is that Rothfuss does what he does very, very well. His worldbuilding is interesting, he unravels his plot little by little, thus making the reader wanting more, and there are a lot of hints (and hopefully also red herrings) to keep the reader engaged. As far as the protagonist goes (as my favourite character in all fiction is that king and emperor of hypercompetents, Crawford of Lymond) I have no problem with Kvothe being good at everyting at the age fo seventeen. Besides, there are ecxellent character details, like the way Kvothe handles money (he is always short of it and thus much of his life revolves around getting some), or the way it is apparent that teenagers, even hypercompetent ones, are morons at times.

But as I said there are problems. Traditional fantasy like this is supposed to run for hundreds and hundreds of pages, but the level of detail here is daunting. Kvothe's first year at the magical university takes about three hundred pages, and Wise Man's Fear has a hundred page training montage. I know this is all about the growth and education of the hero, but come on! In the novels there are episodes of Arsenal level boredom where nothing happens. Also, is there any reasonable way to bring the story to the end in the next volume without the whole feeling unbalanced? Two thousand pages on and our protagonist is still seventeen(ish) – depending how you count the time he spent in the fearie.

Kingkiller Chronicles are page-turners because you really, really want to know what happens next: who is Denna's mysterious patron? Who is Denna, for that matter? How does the moon figure into anything? Where did Kvothe pick up Bast? Who is this king he is supposed to kill? Or is he? And what is the real deal with the Chandrian? Lets hope it does not take Pat another four years to tell us.

Shades of Milk and Honey

Posted by Sari

Here is one I made earlier:

Mary Robinette Kowal: Shades of Milk and Honey

Regency – and I am using regency here as a genre, not a historical period - fantasy is getting to be a genre of its own. Pat Wrede's and Caroline Stevermer's Sorcery and Celia novels, Susannah Clarke's Mr. Norrell and Jonathan Strange, Naomi Novik's Temeraire books and last and defenitely least the rewritings of Jane Austen's novels with zombies, vampires and whatnot. And if someone has not yet done so, I am sure there is a writer working on his or her ground breaking regency paranormal romance. (He a brooding viscount and a vampiric rake, she a leavel-headed, plain and clever daughter of a country gentleman...)

Mary Robinette Kowal's first novel, Shades of Milk and Honey is a romance novel about alternate regency where in addition to piano, painting and little french, well brought up young ladies are also supposed to know how to manipulate glamour, that is to create pleasing illusionary tableaux with sound, movement and scent to brighten up the drawing rooms. Jane and Melody are the two daughters of a not so wealthy gentleman trying negotiate a future without a sizable dowry. Jane is the plain but talented one – already on the shelf at the ancient age of 28 – and Melody the pretty one who envies Jane's talent at glamour. In the course of the novel they of course meet a number of dashing and/or brooding gentlemen, and try to find a satisfactory match for themselves.

The whole affair seems to be a very conscious reworking of Jane Austen, mostly Sense and Sensibility, but also at least Pride and Prejudice and Emma feature prominently on the way. The characters are quite well constructed, the prose charming, and Kowal works her little piece of ivory with skill. But though the ending is more Sturm und Drang than Austen, the fact that the Austen influences and homages on the level of the characters reflect to the plot makes everything is just a tad too familiar for an Austen fan. One does pretty well know where the novel is going.

I think I would have liked Kowal's work more if I had not for some strange reason (maybe the name?) expected something a little more substantial. Shades of Milk and Honey is entertaining regency which merges the fantasy and romance tropes very well, and I am sure has cross-over appeal among romance readers, but I have to say I enjoyed Sorcery and Celia and innumerable Georgette Heyer regencies much more.