The Swan Suit by Katherine Fawcett

The Swan Suit: Stories by Katherine Fawcett
Douglas & McIntyre, March 2020

A fresh and imaginative collection of short stories, bursting with humour and magic. 

Each story has surprises. 'The Virgin and the Troll' is a feminist retelling of Rumplestiltskin. A pig starts a wolf broth business in 'Ham.' The devil gets distracted at a daycare in 'The Devil and Miss Nora.' In 'Mycology,' the firing of a longterm employee brings a whole new perspective to the term ‘deadwood.‘ In 'Happy,' a married couple negotiate differing sexual needs:

        By their third decade of marriage, sex simply didn't seem worth the effort. Like cooking risotto, she saw it as a messy nuisance with results that didn't justify all the stirring.

Katherine Fawcett's playful wordsmithing is evident in the following passages, which are from two of the three interconnected stories about a witch.

        The place is a disaster. Witches are terrible housekeepers and this one is also a hoarder. There are bags of bones and boxes of buttons. Food scraps and beeswax. Birch bark and bike parts. Crumpled silk and rotting milk. Under floorboards are mushrooms; in the drawer, a dead duck. As for the grimoire? Alas, no luck. ('Mary Wonderful's New Grimoire')

        One way for a witch to amuse herself, when the usual avenues of entertainment have been exhausted, is to have a child. [...] Everyone knows having a baby can be very, very good for getting a lady out of a rut, for breaking up routine when life begins to feel same old, same old. ('The Maternal Instinct of Witches')

My favourite story is 'East O,' told from the perspective of an ovum.

        Conditions were crowded in East Ovary.
        Imagine a quarter million eggs, each tethered to the rubbery pod wall by her own personal follicle, all squeezed together into a space the size of the twist-off cap from a two-litre bottle of Canada Dry. Honestly, you couldn't swing a papillomavirus around in there without hitting someone in the corona radiata. But we didn't complain. We were evenly spaced and everyone got along fairly well. We avoided calling it "cramped," with its negative cultural stigma, and instead referred to our East O home as "cozy."

To anyone who protests that fantastical writing isn't worthy of serious consideration, I offer these words from Lloyd Alexander: "Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it." 

Giller chances: HIGH - This whole collection is delightful. It's going on my longlist and I hope the Giller judges feel the same way.

This post is part of a series. I'm on the Shadow Giller jury this year, so I'm reading as many qualifying Canadian titles as possible in order to come up with my own longlist prediction before the official one that will be announced on September 8, 2020. To see my other reviews that are a part of this project, click on the Shadow Giller tag. Also, please visit our Shadowing the Best of CanLit website to see what the rest of the Shadow Giller jury are up to. Thanks for visiting my blog.

The Library of Legends by Janie Chang

The Library of Legends by Janie Chang

Audiobook [11 hours] read by Emily Woo Zeller 

HarperCollins, April 2020

Compulsively readable historical fiction with fantastical elements.

The story opens in September 1937 in Nanking during the second Sino-Japanese war:

        The approaching aircraft were too far away for Lian to tell whether they were Chinese or Japanese. A moment later, she didn't need to guess. The spiraling wail of sirens churned the air. Then the bombs began falling, like beads slipping off a necklace.

        She had been on her way to the train station. She'd gotten off the rickshaw to buy a steamed bun for breakfast. Now she stood outside the bakery as though rooted to the pavement, uncertain what to do. The nearest air-raid shelter was two blocks away, across from the railway station, its entrance already besieged. Even if she were willing to abandon her wicker suitcase, she would never reach the shelter in time.

Nineteen-year-old Hu Lian, a university scholarship student, had intended to take the train to Shanghai to meet up with her mother, who was fleeing the fall of Peking. But during the time it took her mother's letter to reach her, thousands of refugees have already been flooding the International Settlement area of Shanghai. 

As a consequence of the uncertainties of war, Lian ends up joining her fellow students in the evacuation of their university instead. They are to walk westward for 1,000 miles, travelling by night to avoid aerial bombing and sleeping on floors in meeting halls and temples. Classes continue along the way, whenever possible. It reminded me of the flexibility required of education during a pandemic. 

The group that Lian travels with consists of over a hundred students plus professors and staff. Each student has been entrusted with a single volume from an ancient collection of myths and legends. They are to carry this cultural treasure to safety along with them. 

It soon becomes apparent that guardian spirits are making a similar journey, and that a supernatural being is travelling with the student refugees. The fantasy elements are beautifully woven into a plot that also features murder, betrayal, political manipulations and romance. 

Giller chances: MEDIUM LOW - It's a hopeful page-turner with a great message about the supportive power of community during hardship. Genre fiction doesn't fare well in literary prize judging, but this book will please many readers.

NOTE: I recommend the immersive experience of the audiobook read by Emily Woo Zeller. 

This post is part of a series. I'm on the Shadow Giller jury this year, so I'm reading as many qualifying Canadian titles as possible in order to come up with my own longlist prediction before the official one that will be announced on September 8, 2020. To see my other reviews that are a part of this project, click on the Shadow Giller tag. Also, please visit our Shadowing the Best of CanLit website to see what the rest of the Shadow Giller jury are up to. Thanks for visiting my blog.

Undermajordomo Minor by Patrick deWitt

Patrick deWitt's Undermajordomo Minor is a dark comedy that transforms European folktale elements into something entirely original. Imagine a mash-up of Wes Anderson's film The Grand Budapest Hotel with Pauline Reage's The Story of O and PG Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster.

Lucien (Lucy) Minor, a puny young man from a village of giants, accepts a position as assistant to the majordomo at a distant castle. When he gets to the castle of Baron Von Aux, you know it doesn't bode well for him when he is instructed to lock himself in his room at night.

I reviewed deWitt's The Sisters Brothers, a few years ago. As in that earlier novel, this one has dialogue that I found extremely amusing. In the following passage, the majordomo Mr Olderglough has asked Lucy what he thinks of a plan that has been proposed:

Lucy said, "I think it is somewhat far-fetched, sir."
"Are you not up for it?"
"I'm not, actually, no. And to be frank, sir, I don't believe you are, either."
"What sort of attitude is that? Let us rally, boy."
"Let us come up with another plan."
"Let us look within ourselves and search out the dormant warrior."
"Mine is dormant to the point of non-existence, sir. There is no part of me that wishes to lay nakedly abed and await that man's arrival."
"I tell you you will not be alone."
"And yet I shall surely feel alone, sir."
Mr Olderglough looked down the length of his nose. "May I admit to being disappointed in you, boy."
"You may write a lengthy treatise on the subject, sir, and I will read it with interest. But I highly doubt there will be anything written within those pages which will alter my dissatisfaction with the scheme."
"Well I'm sorry to have to tell you this, boy, but it must come to pass, and it will."
"I believe it will not, sir."

We will leave Lucy and Mr Olderglough at this point in their oh-so-polite disagreement. In their world, soldiers fight because they are soldiers, not because there is a war, and servants work because it's their job - even if they do not get paid. Befriended by a family of thieves, Lucy struggles to find meaning in his life.  

This gothic tale charmed me from the very start. There are no illustrations in Undermajordomo Minor, yet the books that I think most closely capture its essence are in graphic novel format: Tinder (Sally Gardner); Through the Woods (Emily Carroll), The Adventuress (Audrey Niffenegger), Baloney (Pascal Blanchet); and Beautiful Darkness (Fabien Vehlmann and Kerascoet). It would make a great movie.

I look forward to hearing Patrick deWitt at the Vancouver Writers Fest on October 23, 2015.

Mechanica by Betsy Cornwell

Fairytale retellings are always a treat. Best of all is when they are as surprising as Betsy Cornwell's steampunk version of Cinderella. Nicolette is an inventor, as adept with mechanical creations as her mother had been, so she doesn't mind that her nasty stepsisters call her "Mechanica."

The action plays out within a larger political and religious arena that is integral to Nicolette's personal story. Prejudice against magic and the Fey is rising to the point where war seems imminent. Social justice is a central theme, an aspect I found particularly satisfying. When she was still alive and healthy, Nicolette's mother warned her not to trust everything in their country's history books. (That's always good advice.)

"'What are the books wrong about?' I asked, tucking into another sandwich. Thin radish, sweet butter, speckles of salt. An unladylike swig of clear tea."

Which reminds me of another thing I enjoyed; Cornwell's writing style. In the example above, she clearly describes what Nicolette is eating and how enthusiastic she is about her food. These are the kinds of details that make her characters and setting real. 

(And now I'll go off on a complete tangent, because Nicolette's lunch could have been "Radishes with Sweet Butter and Kosher Salt" served at Prune, chef Gabrielle Hamilton's restaurant in New York City. In her cookbook, Prune, Hamilton admonishes: "There is nothing to this, but still... I have seen it go out looking less than stellar - and that's embarrassing considering it's been on the menu since we opened and is kind of 'signature,' if Prune had such a thing as signature dishes." It's a bit different from most restaurant cookbooks, because it's addressed to staff instead of home cooks, even though the recipes are adapted to fewer servings. Before I leave this tangent, I'd like to recommend Hamilton's memoir, Blood, Bones and Butter.)

Back to Mechanica. It's a totally enjoyable feminist tale for ages 11 and up.

Readalikes for more fresh takes on Cinderella: Ash by Malinda Lo and Cinder by Marissa Meyer.

Music for Wartime by Rebecca Makkai

The short stories in Rebecca Makkai's Music for Wartime are wonderfully varied in style, setting and length. I didn't need to pace myself with one story per day, my usual habit, because each one remained distinct in my mind. The longer ones (around 20 pages) reminded me of Alice Munro's work, in the way it feels like a whole novel is contained within a short story. The shorter ones (2 or 3 pages) are the most stylistically diverse, and act like palate cleansers in between the longer pieces. At the same time, it is the shorter pieces, those which draw on Makkai's Hungarian family history, that tie the collection together into such a satisfying whole.

In an interview in Harper's, Makkai explains: "When I began putting together Music for Wartime, I decided I wanted these family legends sprinkled throughout the fiction. In the collection, they come at you separately, so that as you read you're not just getting my short stories, but also some of my own psychology, the reasons a young American writer would be drawn to write fiction about refugees and war zones."

"The Museum of the Dearly Departed" is a longer story with an elderly Hungarian couple in a supporting role. Laslo and Zsuzsi (a Holocaust survivor) were away in Cleveland when everyone else in their Chicago apartment building died during a gas leak. The story is about Melanie, whose fiance Michael was one of the people who died, nine weeks before their wedding. He was in bed with Vanessa, his ex-wife, in an apartment Melanie learned about when it was left to her in Michael's will.

"Melanie waited for some dramatic feeling to wash over her. But she hadn't registered much emotion that summer, unless numb was an emotion. Grief would be an embarrassing surrender, considering the new facts. Rage was inappropriate, given Michael's death. The two reactions had stalemated each other. She was an abandoned chessboard."

Zsuzsi consoles Melanie by telling her about Rigo Jansci, a Hungarian cake named for an adulterer. (I'm going to make one of these chocolate mousse cakes. Sounds delicious.)

Photo source and recipe at: East European Food

Other stories include one about an American literature professor who accidently kills an albatross in Australia ("Painted Ocean, Painted Ship"); a cello player who must contend with an elaborate memorial to a traffic fatality that has been constructed on her front lawn ("Cross"); and producers of a reality TV show who manipulate participants into a romantic entanglement ("The November Story"). Two of the stories feature gay central characters: "Peter Torrelli, Falling Apart" and "Good Saint Anthony Come Around."

In "Couple of Lovers on a Red Background," Johann Bach climbs out of a woman's piano and moves in with her. "He's fond of Mozart, unsurprisingly, but for some reason Tchaikovsky makes him giggle."

I highly recommend this collection.

Recently-Read Children's Books Round-up: June 2015

This is a quick round-up of some children's books I've read recently that are suitable for all ages. Adults, don't miss out on great books just because you're taller than you used to be.

Nicola Griffith (author of Hild, etc.) looked at what kind of books have won literary prizes and found that books about women and girls are less likely to win, regardless of the author's gender. See more about this enlightening study online here. I'm going to champion books about girls here today, plus one about lesbians, gays and queers of every sort.

Nimona by Noelle Stevenson
You know the fantastic Lumberjanes comics, right? About five best friends who battle mythological beings at summer camp? (Did you know that it's going to be a movie too?) So, anyway, Stevenson is one of the creators of the Lumberjanes series. She is also the sole creator of Nimona, which started as a webcomic (view some of it here). Nimona is a kickass heroine, a sturdy girl with a pink punk hairstyle, and she can shapeshift into absolutely any form she wants. This makes her the ideal sidekick for a supervillain, Lord Ballister Blackheart... who may not be such a bad guy after all. You know it's all in good fun when the knights have names like Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin, Sir Coriander Cadaverish and Sir Mansley Girthrod. Fun, and loyal friendships. (Grade 5 and up.)

The Story of Antigone by Ali Smith
The Baileys prize for women's fiction is one award that by its nature bucks the trend towards male-dominated fiction. I am so pleased that Ali Smith just won the Baileys prize for How to Be Both! It was my favourite on the Baileys list. How to Be Both is partly set in 21st century England and partly in 15th century Italy. Smith goes back even further in time to retell the Greek myth of Antigone. A brave preteen girl risks death when she takes a stand against injustice. Smith adds humour to this poignant story by choosing a crow as narrator and including a bumbling chorus of elders who speak in mawkish rhyme. This is a beautifully-designed book with evocative illustrations by Laura Paoletti. (Grade 4 and up.)

My Guardian Angel by Sylvie Weil, translated by Gillian Rosner
12-year-old Elvina tells about her life in the year 1096, when Christian crusaders threaten her small Jewish community in northeastern France. I listened to the audiobook narrated by Vanessa Benjamin [Blackstone: 4.5 hrs]. Engaging historical fiction. Readalike: Catherine, Called Birdy (and others) by Karen Cushman. (Grade 5 and up.)

Sidewalk Flowers by JonArno Lawson and Sydney Smith
In this wordless Canadian picture book, a modern girl dressed as little red riding hood accompanies her father on errands through the city. There is no wolf, unless it is sleepy urban indifference. The girl notices and picks flowering weeds, then distributes the flowers wherever she sees the need. Splashes of bright watercolour enliven the mostly black and white ink artwork more and more as the story progresses until the artwork is in full colour. Happy-making! (Preschool and up.)

This Day in June by Gayle Pitman and Kristyna Litten

The annual Pride parade took place in Edmonton a few days ago. Place a child on your lap and together you can relive the magic with this picture book set in San Francisco and told with sparse rhyming text. "Rainbow arches / Joyful marches / Motors roaring / Spirits soaring / Voices chanting / Doggies panting / Clad in leather / Perfect weather..." I love the cheerful illustrations, with so much happening on every page. "Love beats hate" is just one of the many slogans portrayed. (Preschool and up.)

The Table of Less Valued Knights by Marie Phillips

I adored Gods Behaving Badly, Marie Phillips' playful novel of Greek gods living in contemporary London, so it was with much anticipation that I began reading her latest, The Table of Less Valued Knights. And yes, it is funny. After a few chapters, however, I found myself reluctant to pick it up again. Humour is appealing, but I need substance, too. I decided to give it one more chance before returning it to the library. And then everything fell into place.

It's a brilliant social satire. Misogyny, gender inequality and sexual violence are all included; plenty of substance there! Gay and transgender issues are also integral to the story.

The action begins at King Arthur's court in Camelot, with a bunch of knights chomping at the bit for quests. Sir Dorian was the fastest one to leap at the chance to search for Queen Martha, kidnapped on her wedding night. Sir Humphrey, who had been demoted from the prestigious Round Table to the Table of Less Valued Knights, is the only one left in the room late in the evening when another quest opportunity presents itself. Lady Elaine needs help to find her abducted fiance.

Later, Humphrey has second thoughts about having volunteered for the job. "I'm not even supposed to leave Camelot, let alone be gazumping [Sir Dorian's] quest." Gazumping! I love the way Phillips threw that word in there. It's fitting, because the knights treat the quests like hot properties, and a good example of the novel's style, incorporating contemporary sensibilities and terminology into Arthurian fantasy.

More examples of style:

"He waited. Time passed. In another man doubts would have set in. In Edwin, doubts presented themselves, decided that this was not a hospitable environment, and left again."

"Elaine's home village, close to the tuft border, had seen better days, although even in those better days it probably still looked as if it had been put together using an avalanche and some string."

"The next hamlet they came to [...] was a tiny place, even more deprived than Elaine's village had been. Humphrey had seen houses of cards more robust."

Sometimes the farce stretches a bit too far:

Martha "headed for the nearest village, a rather bleak place where the houses were still black with soot from the last time marauders had tried to burn it down, which, had they succeeded, would probably have been an improvement. The inn was called the Dipsomaniac Camel, and she supposed that the sign might have been of a camel, but she had never seen a camel, and neither, she was fairly certain, had the sign painter."

Comedy is tricky, and Phillips manages to be lavish with it while controlling multiple story threads that come together in a satisfying conclusion.

The sexism inherent in Arthurian tales - damsels are the ones in distress; gallant knights come to their rescue - is turned on its head in The Table of Less Valued Knights. Women prove very much capable of looking out for themselves. Laurie Penny, in Unspeakable Things, writes, "Men have sex; women are sex." This attitude is strongly embodied in a couple of characters who receive their comeuppance (it is a fantasy novel, after all). It's presented with such a light touch that it took me a while to appreciate the feminist strength of this novel.

The Table of Less Valued Knights was longlisted for the 2015 Bailey's Women's Prize for Fiction.

Sita's Ramayana by Samhita Arni and Moyna Chitrakar

Sita's Ramayana is a fantastic retelling of a classic Sanskrit epic. If you've never read any version of the Ramayana, this is a fine place to start. If you're already familiar with the tale, there are significant twists in this Bengali version, beginning with the fact that it's told from a woman's point of view.

The images are adapted from Moyna Chitrakar's wordless scroll paintings, with text by Samhita Arni.

The story opens with sorrowful Sita, eye makeup running down her cheeks, asking the forest to shelter her. "Let me live here. The world of men has banished me." Then the narrative backs up 14 years, to the point where Prince Rama has been exiled from his kingdom, accompanied by his wife Sita, and his brother Lakshmana.

Sita was abducted, rescued, and then doubted.
She returns to the forest sad and alone.

Sita gets kidnapped by Ravana, a demon with ten heads, and Rama gets help from an army of animals to get her back from the island of Lanka. War means death and destruction, and Sita has empathy for both sides.

"The cries of the women of Lanka lamenting Kumbhakarna's fall filled my ears, even though he fought on the side of my enemy. I could not help but feel his death was tragic, for he had advised Ravana wisely, and gone, knowingly, to meet his death."

"their people had met death on the battlefield - for what? For one man's unlawful desire. Men had been killed, widowed, and children orphaned. It was such a high price to pay."

Rama is the human incarnation of Lord Vishnu. He excels at everything he does. He is essentially virtuous, obedient to his father and loyal to his wife. But he sometimes acts dishonourably (using treachery to kill), is obstinate (won't go back on a promise even when it no longer makes sense), and he also doubts his wife's fidelity. This makes him more interesting as a hero.

Rama (left), Sita (center) and Lakshmana (right)

Ravana, beloved of his family...
but not so much by others.

In my previous encounters with Rama, he's had blue skin (like Vishnu) so I found it a bit disconcerting that Chitrakar uses a sort of greenish-brown for his colour. Meanwhile, some of the other characters are blue, notably Ravana and his family, even though Ravana is more typically green. Chitrakar portrays Hanuman - monkey god and son of the wind - as black (like the other monkeys) instead of his usual white. These differences made me pay more attention, so I liked them.

When Hanuman is sent on a Hercules-type mission to get a distant medicinal herb, he stuns the rest of his army upon return:
"You brought the entire hill?" says one monkey.
"Well, I couldn't find the plant you told me to find, and I was running out of time, so I brought the whole hill to you instead."

The irregular page layouts feature large panels that emphasize ornamental details in the paintings, as well as taking advantage of the angles and curves of Chitrakar's overall graphic design.

 

The three panels across two pages (below) are repeated on the lower right of the spread above.
A combination of rectangular and round text boxes are used.
Note how the angled sides of the panels (top) characterize the movement of water.

I found the huge eyes on Chitrakar's characters particularly striking.

Eye-catching use of blue, red and yellow. Check out the crazy eyes on the elephant!

This is possibly the most bad-ass squirrel I've ever encountered.

Ancient stories are repeated and retold because they continue to resonate. Like other classic tales from around the world - Greek, Roman and Norse mythology, Gilgamesh, Beowulf, King Arthur, European fairytales, etc. - the Ramayana has influenced authors of contemporary literature. Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children is just one example.

Pair Sita's Ramayana with Sanjay Patel's hip and funky Ramayana: Divine Loophole.

Bitter Greens by Kate Forsyth

Historical fiction about real women, and fairytale retellings: two kinds of books that are in my wheelhouse. Bitter Greens by Australian author Kate Forsyth is both. Yay! It's a retelling of Rapunzel, set in 16th-century Italy, and a richly-detailed fictional account of the life of Charlotte-Rose de Caumont de la Force, set in the French court of Louis XIV. Charlotte-Rose was the king's cousin, she was banished to a nunnery, and she is the author of the original Rapunzel/ Petrosinella story.

There are three central characters: Charlotte-Rose, Margherita (Rapunzel/ Petrosinella), and Silena (the witch). I listened to the audiobook [Blackstone: 19 hrs 26 min] and can still hear narrator Kate Reading's voice as the witch saying: "Petrosinella, Petrosinella, let down your hair, so I may climb the golden stair." 

There are parts that dragged a bit; sometimes from the weight of historical detail, a little too much about sexual dalliances, or too much dithering when I would have have preferred action. In a paper book, I can skim through stuff that doesn't interest me, but with audio it isn't so easy. Fortunately, I really like listening to Kate Reading's voice and her narration helps pull me through when I start to feel mired in a long story. 

I also came up against something else: my personal resistance to surrender. Readers filter narrative through our own experiences, so I always take note when I can feel resistance happening. It's an opportunity to learn about myself. In this case, when characters chose a submissive path, I was unhappy. It made me check whether this reaction had to do with the characters being true to themselves or my own stuff.

Hops shoots taste like
asparagus. Just eat the
tender top part.

Aside from the small things that I've mentioned, I enjoyed this book a lot and recommend it. As an element of total serendipity, I encountered bitter greens in three books within three weeks of each other. Grace Mccleen's The Land of Decoration features a religious zealot who believes bitter greens are a necessary part of his family's diet. I also read a whole book on the topic: Bitter by Jennifer McLagan. Another bit of serendipity: the old nun who befriends Charlotte-Rose is named Seraphina, and I happen to be rereading Seraphina by Rachel Hartman at the moment.

It's early spring in Edmonton, so my garden is supplying me with dandelion greens, young chicory leaves and hops shoots. Bring on the bitter!

Readalikes: The Moon and the Sun by Vonda McIntyre (for the court of the Sun King with a touch of fantastical elements); Zel by Donna Jo Napoli (another successful retelling of Rapunzel); and Wicked by Gregory Maguire (for the viewpoint of a misunderstood witch). Other great historical fiction/fairytale combinations include Tinder (Sally Gardner) and The Snow Child (Eowyn Ivey).

Tinder by Sally Gardner

Tinder is more than a gothic retelling of Hans Christian Anderson's The Tinderbox. It's an exploration of the psychological trauma wrought by war, as seen through the eyes of an 18-year-old soldier. In the author's note, Sally Gardner reveals that her inspiration came from conversations with soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan who found it difficult to adjust back into civilian life. She chose to set her story in the time of the Thirty Years War (1618-1648), one of the most devastating conflicts in European history.

So, yes, there's a magic tinderbox that calls powerful wolf creatures to the soldier's aid, and there's a trapped princess to be saved... but much more is going on in Gardner's version. The tale is told in the voice of Otto Hundebiss, and begins when he evades death after a bloody battle in November, 1642.

   "I lay injured, a bullet in my side, a sword wound in my shoulder, watching night creep through the trees. Maybe I should have gone with Death when he offered me his bony finger."

12th-century half-beast half-man on
Saint-Pierre-es-Liens church in
Gluges, near the Dordogne river.

Instead, Otto is saved by a sort of shaman ("half-beast half-man") who tends his wounds.

   "Next time I woke it was daylight and I had a thirst on me of which a river would be proud."

He tells the shaman:

   "I was born in war, raised in war; in war I lost my family. I was fourteen when the soldiers came to our farm looking for food."

His entire village was burned to the ground and Otto was recruited to the Imperial army. Parallels are clearly drawn with the contemporary use of children as soldiers. Otto has frequent nightmares related to the horrors that he has witnessed. On the page, they are separated from the rest of the text by being printed in white against a black cloud.

The shaman has a prophecy for Otto:

   "When you fall in love, that is when you will come into your kingdom. Not a day before."

Otto falls in love with an elusive princess named Safire.
Illustration by David Roberts in Tinder.

And so Otto's adventure begins. It's a mesmerizing historical fantasy with suitably sad and sinister illustrations by David Roberts.

Roberts' illustration at right reminded
me of the massive doors of the 14th-
century Sainte-Marie church in Sarlat.
I took this photo while on a walking
trip in the Dordogne in 2009.

"Light spilled through their
splintered planks." 

Tinder is currently on the CILIP medal shortlists for both the Carnegie (for outstanding writing) and the Kate Greenaway (for outstanding illustration).

Illustrated readalikes: Through the Woods (Emily Carroll) matches most closely Tinder's spooky, haunting yet delicate beauty; A Monster Calls (Patrick Ness & Jim Kay) for menacing suspense and a folkloric creature, but in a contemporary setting; The Sleeper and the Spindle (Neil Gaiman & Chris Riddell) for the twisted fairytale retelling; Poisoned Apples (Christine Heppermann) for modern resonance using various fairytale tropes; Lies, Knives and Girls in Red Dresses (Ron Koertge & Andrea Dezso) for rather more lighthearted, yet still bloody, retellings.

Spera by Josh Tierney

When two princesses from neighbouring kingdoms learn that they are to be murdered, they escape together. Lono is a girly girl and Pira is a tomboy; they are best friends. They are accompanied and protected by an elemental fire creature, Yonder. He shapeshifts between the form of a large dog, and a portly man with a red beard. The three of them face one monster after another.

Spera is a graphic novel for all ages, written by Canadian Josh Tierney. The three main characters are great, yet what I love best is that each of the chapters is illustrated by a different artist. In volume one, these are Kyla Vanderklugt, Hwei, Emily Carroll (also the creator of Into the Woods), and Olivier Pichard. Then, there are five shorter scenes at the end, again by different artists: Jordyn Bochon, Cecile Brun, Luke Pearson, Leela Wagner and Matt Marblo. Each comics style is quite different, so it's like a series of re-imaginings of one classic fairytale.

Depending on the artist, Yonder's dog form goes from something like an orange husky (Vanderklugt), to a red sheepdog (Hwei), to a flaming schipperke (Carroll), to more wolf-like (Pichard), to a brown labrador (Brun), to a foxy thing that looks like a campfire when he's curled up (Pearson)... and so on. Multiple interpretations of Yonder's human form, and of the two princesses, are just as varied. It's fresh and exciting to have such a variety of gorgeous art within one episodic tale.

The series is published by Archaia and there are two more volumes so far. In them, I hope to find additional adventures with Chobo the Warrior Cat, a character introduced near the end of volume one. Also, Lono has started to defend herself when necessary, rather than relying on Pira and Yonder, and I look forward to seeing even more of that development.

Fantasy fans from Grade 4 to adult will enjoy these adventures in the land of Spera.

Readalikes: Bone (Jeff Smith); Castle Waiting (Linda Medley); Rapunzel's Revenge (Shannon Hale, Nathan Hale & Dean Hale); Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant (Tony Cliff); and William and the Lost Spirit (Gwen de Bonneval & Matthieu Bonhomme).

The Back of the Turtle by Thomas King

Thomas King is at the very top of his game in The Back of the Turtle. It's warm and witty and a cracking good story about family ties. It's got environmental disaster, greed, guilt and redemption. There are elements of First Nations and Christian mythology, plus nods to the Western literary canon.

The action takes place in a remote coastal area of British Columbia, as well as in Toronto. The Alberta tar sands are in there too. King moves smoothly between narrative threads, backstory and present day. His playful style is a joy to read:

  "The morning traffic was heavy, and the limousine was reduced to drifting along with the schools of cars and lumbering pods of delivery vans and transport trucks, everyone jammed together fin to gill, in a sea of diesel fumes and exhaust."

My favourite character is Nicolas Crisp, with his idiosyncratic manner of speech:

  "Ye know trailers from trawlers?"
  "No."
  "Nothing much to know. Simple they are, not like a house. Now there's a pox. A house, ye see, don't want to move. Once she's built, she figures to stay put. A trailer's more compliant. Ye doesn't likes where ye have come ashore? Well, just drop the hitch on the ball and away ye go. Trailer's the better companion. Happy on the road or off. All love for ye and your caprices and no complaining."

King drops in sly hints about the true identities of Crisp and his addled nephew, Sonny. There's one, in fact, in the passage above. I won't say more, to not spoil the fun.

Dorian Asher, CEO of an agribusiness corporation, is the bad guy. But he is also one who speaks the truth: "the occasional spill is the price we pay for cheap energy." Dorian brings to mind Oscar Wilde's Dorian Gray, not only for his name, but also because he's a hedonist and a man without a conscience.

There were so many times that I made connections to other books, and I love when that happens. There's an ocean barge carrying toxic waste, unable to find a port that will allow it to dock; it's loosely based on a true event, which also inspired Jonah Winter and Red Nose Studio to create the all-ages picture book Here Comes the Garbage Barge.

King seamlessly incorporates scientific and historical information, like the time in 1950 when an American pilot jettisoned a nuclear bomb over Quebec. One of the scariest genetically modified organisms, Klebsiella planticola bacteria, is central to the plot. It gives me shivers just thinking about its destructive potential. (Go ahead and google it.)

I've encountered readers who are hesitant to read Thomas King's work for fear that too much will go over their heads. Looking back on what I've written so far, I hope I don't reinforce that misconception. The Back of the Turtle is totally enjoyable and accessible. It's heartbreaking and heart healing. I've saved writing about it for the last day of the year because its one of my top reads of 2014.

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Nobody writes quite like King, but the closest readalikes are possibly Monkey Beach (Eden Robinson) and Boy Snow Bird (Helen Oyeyemi).

More from Thomas King: The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America - nonfiction that I wish everyone would read.

Krampus the Yule Lord by Brom

Old magic is afoot on Christmas morning in West Virginia.

Santa Claus had better watch out. Krampus is coming to town, and he is set on revenge.

"Santa Claus... How vile your name upon my tongue. Like acid, hard to utter without spitting."

Santa Claus is not the saint he appears to be. Krampus is not the devil he appears to be.

Also, Brom's Krampus the Yule Lord is not really as grim as the book's cover might lead you to believe. The horned creature with his pointy tongue might have put me off if I hadn't loved one of Brom's earlier novels, The Child Thief (a retelling of Peter Pan).

Yes, Krampus is a dark fantasy. Battles between gods are no picnic, and there are violent scenes involving modern day sociopaths, crooks and meth addicts. At its core, however, this reworking of Norse and Christian mythologies contains a deep love and faith in the natural world. It is possible that good will triumph over evil.

Brom's illustrations add just the right gothic touch. Check out some of them online here, being sure to scroll down to Santa Claus.

Krampus is a great yuletide story for any day of the year.

Readalikes: American Gods (Neil Gaiman); Ragnarok (A.S. Byatt); Weaveworld (Clive Barker).

The Encyclopedia of Early Earth by Isabel Greenberg

British artist Isabel Greenberg has made a fresh, witty and charming tale out of ancient mythology and her own imagination: The Encyclopedia of Early Earth.

"Readers! This book is not a real encyclopedia!" -from the back cover.

It's about a storyteller from the land of Nord and his series of adventures as he travels the globe in search of a missing part of himself. Meanwhile, BirdMan and his two children - the Ravens - look on from their perch in the heavens. It's told in graphic novel format with striking linocut-style images.

First panel in the book. How could I not immediately fall in love with a book that starts with mitten love?

The story of historical events depends on who is doing the storytelling. (Note the high five in background.)

The Master Bootlicker made me laugh...

Another panel that made me laugh. (God's reaction to prayer: "What the bloody hell is that noise?")

This panel is from Wonder Woman Vol. 1: Blood (Brian Azzarello, Cliff Chiang, Tony Akins). It was pure serendipity that I read this immediately following The Encyclopedia of Early Earth, and found this reference to Bird Man / Bird God. The thing that prompted me to re-read the New 52 Wonder Woman series is the news that a new creative team is taking over the writing: Meredith and David Finch. Looking forward to what they'll do!

To see more of Isabel Greenberg's delightful art, check out her website: http://isabelnecessary.com/

Readalikes: Mouse Bird Snake Wolf (David Almond & Dave McKean); The Odyssey (Gareth Hinds).

She of the Mountains by Vivek Shraya

Edmonton-born author Vivek Shraya's complex exploration of queer identity in She of the Mountains layers Hindu mythology with contemporary life. Episodes from the life of Parvati, mother of the universe, alternate with scenes from the life of a South Asian boy coming of age in Canada.

I'll start with the book's striking design. Raymond Biesinger's stylized green and black artwork illustrates the text and emphasizes its quality of universality. Green is a colour of growth and transformation, so the bright green pages that divide the novel into sections also contribute a layer of symbolism.

Parvati is a goddess, yet she suffers in ways that humans understand: grieving over the death of her children; feeling conflicted loyalties; emotionally wounded by her husband Shiva. Her sections are told in first person, making her story fresh and immediate.

In her incarnation as the mortal Sati, Parvati yearns for blue-skinned Shiva:

"As the prayers continued, I gazed at the fire ahead, comforted by the only presence in the room that understood my burning sense of betrayal and disappointment.
[...]
Contemplating my misfortune, I became mesmerized by the streaks of blue in the flames until all I could see was blue.
Shiva! There you are! I knew you would come, I said. I stood up and walked into the fire, arms open. This was the end of my human life."

The contemporary sections are in third person, following an unnamed boy who grew up in a Hindu family in Edmonton. Gay is an invective used against him when he was too young to even understand the word. The way that bullying squashes human potential is made poignantly clear.

"[He] stopped seeking pleasure altogether. His world was reduced to bare necessity. Home was where he slept and ate, and school was where he learned.
He graduated from high school amorphous, his teenage body and its vast possibilities left on the unpaved field where it was first attacked."

At university, he comes out and and finds community at The Only Gay Bar in Edmonton. Then his life is once again in turmoil, because he falls in love with a woman. Bisexuality is not sanctioned. He is told: "Honey, we all liked girls at one point. But the Bi Highway always leads to Gaytown."

Shraya signs books at the University of Alberta,  Sept 2014

She has skin like his own and their shared browness is a revelation: "Falling in love with her brown had unexpectedly given his own skin new value, a new sheen."

"White was almost every interaction he had, and through this relentless exposure, he learned to value it, serve it, aspire to it, his white bedroom walls plastered with white famous faces. This was where the true power of white resided."

The new couple do not fit into the gay community, yet he cannot disavow the gay aspect of himself either.

"Who could they be outside their parents' homes? Who could they be outside of university? Maybe they would move to Vancouver; she loved the ocean, and he loved every city that wasn't Edmonton."

(I've heard that last sentiment more than a few times.)

Being human is a complicated and lonely affair. This short, sensitive novel is a fine example of the way we can reconcile contradictions and establish a sense of self-worth.

Companion reads (with links to my reviews): God Loves Hair is Vivek Shraya's first book; Ramayana: Divine Loophole by Sanjay Patel, for another brief and informal retelling from Indic mythology, combined with stylized art; The Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruna, to get immersed in a longer retelling from Indic mythology; Boyfriends with Girlfriends by Alex Sanchez, for another exploration of bisexuality.

Thank you to Arsenal Pulp Press for providing me with a review copy of She of the Mountains.

Paradise & Elsewhere by Kathy Page

The dark, surprising stories in Kathy Page's Paradise and Elsewhere interweaves reality and myth. Celtic, Greek and biblical threads flicker in and out. Amy Bloom calls this book "moody, shape-shifting, provocative" and I can't think of better words. I was entranced.

There's a universality about the settings. The places are all over the planet, ranging from the seaside to a desert oasis, and from a stony mountain valley to a tropical locale. Each tale is quite short. They address isms - like consumerism, tourism, sexism and colonialism - from new vantage points.

The following is an excerpt from 'My Beautiful Wife'

"What use is a car, Liia says. Books are more important. A car can only take you half as far as the fuel you can pay for lasts, and then you have to come back; but books are infinite journeys and each one can be taken many times."

Paradise and Elsewhere is a journey into the truths of existence.

Readalikes: Diving Belles (Lucy Wood); Jagannath (Karen Tidbeck); and May We Shed These Human Bodies (Amber Sparks).

Beautiful Darkness by Fabien Vehlmann and Kerascoet

The cover shows Aurora
next to the hand of a
human corpse.

A quirky combo of sweet and macabre, Beautiful Darkness is an astonishing full colour creation by French comics artists Fabien Vehlmann and Kerascoet. On the back cover of the Drawn & Quarterly English language translation, it is aptly labelled an "anti-fairy tale."

Take Thumbelina, Hansel and Gretel, Moomin, The Borrowers, Lord of the Flies and Gulliver's Travels, mix them together, and then twist the storytelling dial over to the darker end.

The action takes place in a forest, where a dead school girl sprawls, slowly decomposing. A loose community of Lilliputian beings scavenge for food and tools from the corpse and its accoutrements. They crawl in and out of its body cavities. They play amongst maggots as they hatch. ("Hee hee! That tickles!")

The community members are a varied assortment of doll-like creatures. They have big eyes and are portrayed in a cartoony style. In contrast, the corpse and one other (living) human are realistically illustrated, as are the insects and animals of the forest.

The lives of the miniature beings are precarious. They die in such a variety of black comedy misadventures that Andy Riley's The Book of Bunny Suicides comes to mind. Their challenge is to sort out the way their society will function... or malfunction. Who will lead them best: kind and selfless Aurora... or vain and ruthless Zelie?

Readalike pictorial works: Temperance (Cathy Malkasian); Pinnochio (Winshluss); Through the Woods (Emily Carroll); My First Kafka (Matthue Roth & Rohan Eason) and Ant Colony (Michael DeForge).

The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by Eddie Campbell

Eddie Campbell's art (detail)

The storytelling genius of Neil Gaiman continues with The Truth Is a Cave in the Black Mountains: A Tale of Travel and Darkness. Gaiman says about this book: "It's not pure prose, not a graphic novel. It's a story with pictures unlike anything else I've written."

The illustrations by Eddie Campbell are comprised of paintings, comics and collage. Campbell's moody dark palette and visible thick brush strokes in the paintings are reminiscent of Van Gogh's 'The Potato Eaters.' The ink lines that create the comics are extremely loose, providing a buoyant contrast.

Eddie Campbell's art (detail)

Eddie Campbell's art
(photo collage detail)

The story has the feel of a traditional yarn and is set in an alternate Jacobite Scotland. It's told by a cattle thief searching for the truth about his missing daughter. He is a little man - a dwarf - accustomed to being mocked for his stature, who employs a guide to take him to a magical place on an island wrapped in fog.

Eddie Campbell's art in opening double page spread. "You ask me if I can forgive myself?"

This is a dark tale, as the subtitle forewarns, and it is in the adult collection at Edmonton Public Library. It is suitable, however, for readers in elementary school and older, except the most sensitive young readers. There's nothing more gruesome or scary than can be found in Jeff Smith's Bone series, or The Hobbit, or a production of MacBeth.

Readalikes: Mouse Bird Snake Wolf  (David Almond & Dave McKean); The Lady of Shalott (Alfred Lord Tennyson & Genevieve Cote, Kids Can Press edition); Mysterious Traveler (Mal Peet, Elspeth Graham & P.J. Lynch); Raven Girl (Audrey Niffenegger); Red: A Haida Manga (Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas); The Cats of Tanglewood Forest (Charles De Lint & Charles Vess).

The Gigantic Beard that Was Evil by Stephen Collins

Unruly facial hair disrupts the social order of an island society in The Gigantic Beard that Was Evil. Mild-mannered Dave is at the mercy of his beard when it starts growing without cease, and Dave is then censured by the other people in his regimentally tidy community.

The title and cover illustration of Stephen Collins' large format graphic novel set up this fable very well indeed. Farcical, with dark undertones. Collins uses humour to prod our fear of difference. The story is conveyed mostly via images, rather than words. In this society, the rules are clear. They are to followed, not questioned or discussed.

The Gigantic Beard that Was Evil is a bewitching and unsettling study of modern life.

Cartoonist Stephen Collins has a dead pan and devastating sense of humour.

Readalikes: Goliath (Tom Gauld); The Ticking (Renee French).