Review: The Folly of the World by Jesse Bullington

For some reason I still manage to be surprised when the book I’m reading tends to fit in with whatever conversation is currently going on in the SFF-intranets world. The conversation of the moment is all about grimdark, the term that seems to have emerged to describe the ‘gritty’ fantasy that maybe even could be called its own sub-genre (here are a few links to get you started on the discussion). But, I’m not going to quibble about the definition of grimdark, how appropriate it is attach the label to author X or Y’s books, or any of that. But, the book I am here to discuss – The Folly of the World by Jesse Bullington (Indiebound, Book Depository, Amazon) – arguably falls right in with the new kid dressed all in black at the back of the genre party who is buy angrily staring down everyone while (s)he trims his/her fingernails with a large knife.

 

The Folly of the World was wholly unexpected for me – I had heard good things about Bullington’s writing, but really didn’t know anything about it when I started the book (I hadn’t even read the back cover). So, it took me quite a while to figure out how felt about the book – honestly it took until after I finished reading it. The first thing that literally slaps the reader in the face is the very coarse language of the book, particularly in the first half. In the context of the book, it works, though it is above and beyond the coarseness of 99% of the books in fantasy. The dialogue is harsh, ugly and offensive. The descriptions are dark, evocative and unpleasant. And there are graphic descriptions of sex – man on man sex – that is needfully violent rather than sensual and loving.

 

After adjusting to the ruthless writing style I began to wander just where this novel was going. First, it’s not epic fantasy or even second world fantasy. It’s really much more historical fiction, or gothic horror (if gothic horror can apply to a setting in medieval Holland), with only the barest hints of the supernatural. In fact, I have no idea if there really is any supernatural element in the novel – and it doesn’t matter. The hints serve to increase the horror, set the mood, and relentlessly drive home the inevitable and hopeless end – or at least the perception of an inevitable and hopeless end.

 

Throughout this review I’ve used words like ruthless, horror, relentless, hopeless, harsh, coarse, dark, and …grimdark. The world is violent. There is death. There are battles. Horrible things are said and done. One could choose to describe things as tragic, and they wouldn’t be wrong, though I think folly is the better choice as the title itself clearly alludes to. The story shown, the actions and thoughts undertaken are often far too absurd to be anything but folly. The story at its heart is about a bastard seeking his noble birthright. Or perhaps it’s two highwaymen working a con to become noble. Or maybe it’s a rags to riches story. As expected, things don’t go as planned, but one of those cons does become noble, a peasant is lifted to the heights of society, and the fall from the edge is precipitous.

 

The view that Bullington chooses to tell his story through is important. The two conmen I mention above are front and center, though the real story is that of a peasant girl who is literally bought and paid for to help them recover a lost object. These three make up a motley trio representing the worst of the worst in society and genre alike. The two men are homosexual lovers, one is a bastard and the other is severely mentally ill. Both are killers. One will do and say anything to achieve his goals while the other is madly unpredictable. The girl is an uneducated peasant sold into service. She is harsh, violent, and a survivor. Horrible things happen – yet the girl is never raped and remains ‘pure’ through to the very end. It’s all gritty, dark and grim. There are very real conflicts, there is betrayal and death. Characters are wounded and they rise and fall from tragic archetypes to simple folly, though the usual, the obvious, doesn’t happen. There is much that can be said to all this – Bullington’s writing is layered with thematic depth and historical context. And frankly, I didn’t get it (at least not all of it). I typically consider that a good thing as it shows the book has deeper context and meaning than can be easily gained. And for that context, I recommend reading Indrapramit Das’s review over at Strange Horizons, it goes farther and deeper than I could ever hope to.

 

So far this review has meandered, only hinted at plot and character, and gained and lost momentum. In this, it mirrors The Folly of the World. The Folly of the World starts out fast, slows in the middle, only to pick up pace again toward the end. In all honesty, I almost did not finish this book. I kept waiting to see where the book was going, when that twist would occur. One twist occurred, and the second I kept waiting for felt like it never happened. Yes there were events and happens of importance to the story, but not at the level I was expecting (or hoping for?). With less than a hundred pages until the end I put the book down and seriously questioned whether I should bother continuing. I wish I could say that I felt that I had to know the end, but really I only continued because I felt that I had put in a lot of time already and just a bit more to finish it off made sense. I simply didn’t care – the title indicates that it’s the folly of the World, perhaps indicating a story of great significance to the world itself. It’s not. In fact it’s barely even significant in the dusty forgotten historical context it’s presented in. It’s only significant to the actual characters of the book.

 

Upon reflection I think this fits with the book. The book is folly, it’s the folly of humanity. It’s about unexpected love and dedication. It shows that what is important and significant varies greatly by perspective. It’s a book that the reader must love to hate and hate to love. It’s a book that works best when one can’t decide if it should be finished or not. That’s the folly of the book as well as the story within.

 

Did I enjoy The Folly of the World? That’s an answer I’m still searching for, but overall I think I can only say marginally. Do I appreciate The Folly of the World? Yes, Yes, YES. What Bullington does in this book is masterful, especially in the context of the conversation occurring in genre right now around grimdark, what it is and what, if any, value it brings. It’s a harsh truth, it’s a lot of harsh truths, it’s folly, it’s no easy journey to take, and not everyone will finish it. This only increases the ultimate value, if not necessarily its overall appeal.

Review: The Edinburgh Dead by Brian Ruckley

The Edinburgh Dead by Brian Ruckley (Book Depository, Powell's Books, Indiebound) is a significant departure from the epic fantasy trilogy that brought Ruckley to the attention of fantasy fans. Set in 1828 Edinburgh, a historic detective tale morphs into something darker and more sinister as Ruckley brings 19^th Century Edinburgh alive in his best work to date.

Adam Quire is a war-hardened veteran and an officer for the newly-formed Edinburgh police. A particularly gruesome death doesn’t add up and Quire’s investigation leads him into puzzling and dangerous ground that points to the pillars of Edinburgh society. And then it gets personal and Quire releases the talent he keeps at bay – a talent for survival and extreme violence.

The Edinburgh Dead is the first book by Ruckley that I’ve read since his debut Winterbirth (Book Depository, Powell's Books, Indiebound). I found Winterbirth to be on the mediocre side and haven’t been inspired to finish the trilogy (though I do plan to eventually). In The Edinburgh Dead I immediately noticed that Ruckley’s writing has improved significantly. His descriptions are powerful and set the mood well – early 19^th Century Edinburgh comes alive through his words. We see the intellectual powerhouse that Edinburgh has become – we also see the dark underpinnings that props up that distinction. There is privilege and there is everyone else. Lives are hard and dangerous – and there is the ever present need for more bodies to dissect on the cities medical stages.

The Edinburgh Dead is a true blend of many genres into one coherent and very well told story. It’s historic fiction, it’s a hardboiled mystery bordering on noir, it’s gothic horror, and it’s an urban fantasy supernatural thriller. Often when such cross-over happens, one still dominates or the combination doesn’t quite fit as well as it should – with The Edinburgh Dead it’s seamless – a natural blend.

The real strength of The Edinburgh Dead is the setting and the way in which Ruckley draws the reader into the dark and dangerous streets of Old Town. Edinburgh comes to life through the broken, beaten and resourceful Quire, a sinister life beneath the glamour of enlightenment. The relatively slow and steady pace continually builds towards the end – a perfect balance that resists the urge to rush. The only real fault is that Ruckley at time over-indulges with his descriptions, particularly in the latter half of the book where the mood has already been set.

The Edinburgh Dead is told mostly from the point of view of Quire and his personality dominates the book. This both good and bad – Quire is a powerful personality and vividly reflective of Ruckley’s 19^th Century Edinburgh, however there are a few minor characters who could have been brought out more. If the book had been told entirely from Quire’s point of view, this flaw would have been less noticeable, but increasingly as the novel moves forward we see bits and pieces from other points of view to fill in the blanks of the evolving mystery.

All in all The Edinburgh Dead was refreshing change of pace from Ruckley and a very good historical gothic mystery horror urban supernatural thriller. I hope that Ruckley continues in this direction with more surprises to come.

Review: Firefly Rain by Richard Dansky

Firefly Rain by Richard Dansky launches the new Wizards of the Coast Discoveries imprint featuring original speculative fiction works that cover a wide range of subjects. I stepped outside of my typical reading habits for this one – Firefly Rain is more horror-suspense and southern-gothic (or snowbird gothic as Dansky himself describes it) than the typical SFF I read. In many ways this is an enjoyable step back in time for me since I read a lot more within the horror genre (mostly Stephen King and Dean Koontz) when I was younger.

Jacob Logan is returning home and the vacant house and empty land deep in the Carolina countryside are the last place he wants to be. His last visit was to bury his mother along side his father and he hopes this visit will be equally brief. Jacob immediately notices a few oddities as his luck turns even worse – things just don’t feel right. Encounters with Carl, the particularly surly groundskeeper and equally surly local cops only add to his worries has he struggles with the ghosts of his past.

Firefly Rain takes two of the more common horror tropes – estranged relations with family and the creepy small town – and writes a really decent story with them (well, there’s a third common trope but I’ll leave that out here). It reads fast and the descriptive prose captures the dark and threatening mood of the story well while interjecting just the right amount of humor at the right times. Dansky really shines in his portrayal of the small southern town with friendly hospitality laced with a distrust of outsiders and a sharp word for superior-minded city-folk.

Told in a first-person point of view, a lot of time is spent getting into the mind of Jacob. As a result, Jacob’s character is presented well, though it left me wanting more. The estranged relationship with his parents lies at the heart of things, but we are never given very convincing reasons why. I suppose it could be viewed positively that Dansky didn’t feel the need to go over the top and throw all sorts of horrifying abuses at Jacob’s childhood, but I did find myself questioning why things seemed so bad to Jacob.

With the concentration on Jacob, the supporting cast is regulated to little more than caricatures that manage to serve their roles well. In an all-too predictable way, every person we are introduced to has an eventual role to play. It could be considered efficiency, but it rubbed me a bit wrong in the ‘everybody really is out to get me’ kind of way.

The plot moves forward adequately, with the best parts of the book coming in the more descriptive aspects. At times you could feel the oppressive wet heat of the south and the lightening-quick change of weather that a storm can bring. It had me remembering the ominous feeling you can get when visiting that distant relative in the country and their creepy old house – where my city car gets stuck on the road or a flat tire in the mud.

Firefly Rain was a quick and refreshing change of pace from my usual fair. I enjoyed it quite a bit in spite a couple flaws and have no trouble recommending it to most any audience. It’s a decent debut for Wizards of the Coast Discoveries and I look forward to seeing what comes next. 7/10