the ghost in love
Jonathan Carroll is one of my all-time favorite writers. I only started reading him seven years ago, when The Wooden Sea first came out, but I quickly sought out his other books; at that time, it was a bit more difficult, as much of his back catalogue was out of print. Lots of time was spent in the Amazon Marketplace, and eBay, and in many many used books stores. When Tor began reprinting his older novels, I was simultaneously glad that more people would have access to his fiction, smug that I had read them first, and annoyed that they weren't easier to find earlier. One of my prize possessions is a UK hardcover edition of Outside the Dog Museum that I happened upon quite by accident at Nice Price Books when I was visiting Jamie and Steffi in Carrboro, but anyone can now by the paperback on Amazon for just $11.
And even though Carroll had established quite a career by the time I caught up to him (The Wooden Sea was his 13th book), it still felt like I was discovering something secret and precious. He wasn't really talked about much in the skiffy community, nor was he in the mainstream press; this, of course, is only my perception and may have had something to do with the people and periodicals that I paid attention to. The blogosphere was still fairly nascent at that point, and I just didn't see many reviews of his work in papers or magazines. So, like I said, hidden treasure.
Little did I know that Carroll had (and still has) a following all over the world; he's absolutely huge in Poland, and I believe that he was given the key to the city of Krakow. And really, I don't know how valid my perception in the US was either; my pal Tim Pratt has talked about reading Carroll in volumes of The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror, and Neil Gaiman has talked about him a few times in his blog. So I'm sure that more people have read him than I'm aware of, though I always got the impression that he was more of a cult author in the US.
I do think that the publishing industry was not ready for his style of writing, which casually blends the realistic with the fantastic, and it took the critical mass of reader taste and changes in publishing (aided by Kelly Link, Gavin Grant, Jeff VanderMeer, and the hosts of other cross-genre writers and publishers) to really launch Carroll into a new level of his career. Magic realism, slipstream, interstitialism, New Weird, whatever you happen to call it, Carroll had been writing it all along, and interest in his work seemed to skyrocket.
I got to meet Carroll back in 2002, and it was a supremely cool experience. He was on a US book tour for White Apples, and he did a reading at Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh. He read the first chapter, which had been previously published in Conjunctions as "Simon's House of Lipstick," and then took questions and signed books. I'd previously reviewed the book for Green Man Review, and Quail Ridge was nice enough to display the review front and center in their store in order to promote the reading. As Carroll lives in Vienna and doesn't typically make too many trips to the US, his reading there was a special experience, and the man himself met and surpassed all my expectations of him.
Okay, all this gushing is leading to the fact that Carroll's new novel, The Ghost in Love will be released at the end of September, in just a couple of weeks. There's an old chestnut that reviewers occasionally use, stating that a new book from a certain writer is cause for celebration, and though it's an incredible cliche, it absolutely applies here. Whenever a new Jonathan Carroll novel comes out, I drop everything (within reason) and plunge myself into the newest world that he's created, which always looks suspiciously like ours, but with interesting changes. He's posted the first chapter (~5,600 words) on his snazzy new website for free:
The ghost was in love with a woman named German Landis. Just hearing that arresting, peculiar name would have made its heart flutter if the ghost had still had one. She was coming over in less than an hour so it was hurrying now to make everything ready. The ghost was a very good cook, sometimes a great one. If it'd spent more time at it, or had more interest in the subject, it would have been exceptional.
From its large bed in a corner of the kitchen a mixed breed, black and oatmeal colored dog watched with great interest as the ghost prepared the meal. This mutt was the only reason why German Landis was coming here today. Its name was Pilot, after a poem the woman loved about a Seeing Eye dog.
Suddenly sensing something, the ghost stopped what it was doing and glared at the dog. Peevishly, it demanded "What?"
Pilot shook its head. "Nothing. I was only watching you work."
"Liar. That is not the only thing. I know what you were thinking: That I'm an idiot to be doing this."
Embarrassed, the dog turned away and began furiously biting one of its rear paws.
"Don't do that-- Look at me. You think I'm nuts, don't you?"
Pilot said nothing and kept biting its foot.
"Don't you?"
"Yes I think you're nuts, but I also think it's very sweet. I only wish she could see what you're doing for her."
Resigned, the ghost shrugged and took a slow deep breath. "It helps when I cook. When my mind is focused then I don't get so frustrated."
"I understand."
"No you don't. How could you? You're only a dog."
The dog rolled its eyes. "Idiot."
"Quadruped."
Two weeks is just too long, although it'll probably be even longer before the novel reaches Singapore's shores. The waiting will be torture. You can download the first chapter here.