RAVENS IN THE LIBRARY: Magic in the Bard's Name (A Review, Part II)
You guys remember Ravens in the Library, right? If you're not sure what I'm talking about, allow me to sum up: S.J. Tucker, traveling musician and fire-spinner extraordinaire, became terribly ill this past winter and had to undergo several very expensive medical procedures. Unfortunately, she did not have health insurance (which is the lamentable lot of many, many people in this country); what she did have, however, were amazing friends (writers, editors, and artists among them) and fans who created and bought a benefit anthology to assist her in paying off her medical debt.
Ravens in the Library is that anthology. It is a limited edition collection edited by SatyrPhil Brucato and Sandra Buskirk, available only until Tucker's medical expenses have been covered. This is my review: specifically, the second part. If you missed the first part of the review (which covers the first half of the TOC), click here.
Before we get started with the rest of the TOC and the lyrics included in Ravens in the Library, I should tell you that this review has ended up even longer than I expected it to become! Therefore, you don't get my thoughts on the art, the book's design, or the Introduction today. I'll post those later this weekend, in Part III.
On to the stories!
"Fortune," by Shira Lipkin.
This story hits on several of my favorite storytelling devices: Tarot cards and a mythological retelling (here, the Descent of Inanna). However, for some reason, the magical realism aspects didn't entirely mesh well with the terrifying, yes, but sadly all too typical narrative of the degradation and dissolution of a woman alone. However, in spite of that one complaint, this is a powerful recasting of the Inanna myth and Lipkin couldn't have picked a better back-drop than Vegas. Knowing that pieces of this story were autobiographical makes it linger all the more. This is the sixth tale original to this anthology.
"Pipsqueak," by Angel Leigh McCoy.
Considering this tale began as a well-written urban fantasy, I was disappointed when it failed to deliver an appropriate resolution. I also found that naming the heroine's accompanying pixies after the Endless from Neil Gaiman's Sandman was jarring rather than endearing. In any case, this story believably invokes the life of runaways and subtly comments upon the treatment of "lunatics" when they're just people who happen to see life a different way. I found the characters to be engaging, and only wish the bit about the dog and his keeper had been better explained. This is the seventh tale original to this anthology.
"Ravenous," by SatyrPhil Brucato.
If you could take an overwrought, melodramatic hard-rocker in her early 20's and squeeze all her angst onto the page, the runny mess of acid greens and eye-searing oranges and other such bilious (yet trippy) colors that would compose the resulting painting would invoke the feeling one has upon reading "Ravenous." Which happens to be about an overwrought, melodramatic hard-rocker and her real-life for-true horny version of the Green Fairy. They destroy things, until they figure out how not to. Originally appearing in Weird Tales, I'm glad Brucato chose to reprint it here.
"In His Own Image," by Alexandra Elizabeth Honigsberg.
Reading "In His Own Image" left me feeling sad and fascinated: Honigsberg's depictions of a creator pouring his heart and soul into the instruments he fashions were top-notch, as were here distressingly realistic depictions of a man letting his life and family fall apart in an onslaught of obsession. I also appreciate how she nicely painted the international community of the professional orchestral/soloist scene. This is the eighth tale original to the collection.
"Of Mouse, and Music," by Kris Millering
What a powerful little piece of whimsical loveliness! I delight in the concept of house as an organic and aware construction, adore the implied dual natures of its inhabitants, dance to the personification of music and teasingly included bits of technology. There's an ensemble cast in this short story, but they all feel like solid people with fantastic pasts. This story really just leaves me wanting more, so much more, set in the same world. This is the ninth tale original to the collection.
"A Thin Line, Between," by Jaymi Elford
This story seemed promising at first: an enigmatic figure appears in a nightclub, which soon takes on otherworldly qualities, perhaps a prelude to more important elements manifesting among the dancing crowd and acting out some strange pantomime. Unfortunately, it really was just an enigmatic girl in an enigmatic hat (that too often has to be described, in full, as a "big red velvet crumpled tophat") wandering around the club and mystifying people, maybe touching some lives. This one didn't stick with me long after turning the page. This is the tenth tale original to the collection.
"The Color of Angels," by Terri Windling.
Windling permitted a reprint of this stirring and absorbing piece of The Horns of Elfland. Another of my favorite tools in the artist's creative chest is color; Windling uses it to full effect here, lovingly describing the colors her arist-heroine thinks, feels, and paints. This is a story of love and loss (of others, of oneself), love for the city, love for the country, and the power traditional tales have in our lives. I drifted intoxicated in this piece, reveling in the emotions (delight, melancholy, hope) and the palette of colors. Another reprint gem.
"A Lust of Cupids," by Laurell K. Hamilton.
An amusing and quaint rumination on what life would be like were Cupid not only real, but a species of creature that hangs out in packs and can be bribed into plying the famous arrows for sweets (more often using them out of mischief or spite). There's not much to this story, but what is there provides a pleasant diversion during an afternoon wait (between classes, say, or at the laundromat). Fans of Laurell K. Hamilton will recognize this short piece from her Strange Candy collection.
"The Substance of Things Hoped For," by Mia Nutick.
"The Substance of Things Hoped For" was horrifying in that most awesome of ways: where you find your skin crawling and guts churning at the world presented to you, and you can't get enough of it. Because the world is fresh and well-envisioned, the perspective is immediately absorbing, and the new yet old approach to classic fantasy tropes inexorably reels in your mind. This is another story that made my Top 5 from this collection and its world full of magic and terror lingers with me still. This is the eleventh tale original to the collection.
"Lost," by Seanan McGuire.
McGuire's "Lost" is, hands down, the best tale in this anthology. From its opening hook of historical revelation, you're pulled along and deep down into the childlike wonder of moonlight songs and the heart-wrenching loss of a full generation of adults (and almost adults). This piece wrenched tears from me quite unbidden: sudden, surprising sobs bit back with wistful emotion. Powerful and terrible, smile-provoking and tear-inducing: as all the great stories are. This is the twelfth and final tale original to this collection.
MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENT:
Alongside the stories, several sets of lyrics were presented as well (which most fans of S.J. Tucker will be familiar with and so able to sing along-- an interactive anthology!).
"Ravens in the Library," by S.J. Tucker.
"Ravens in the Library," of course, inaugurates the collection. There is no recording of this song currently available, but I was lucky enough to hear Tucker play it live and so can hum along to its whimsical lines. Having the lyrics, printed, however, throws into sharp relief how little one later (overly didactic) stanza thematically belongs to the song.
"Creature in the Wood," by Alexander James Adams and "Daughter of the Glade," by S.J. Tucker.
I've never heard "Creature of the Wood" by Alexander James Adams before, though I imagine from the early lyrics that is has kind of a jig-like tune, which is definitely appropriate for a song coming from a satyr. However, as the piece goes on, it seems more melancholy. S.J. Tucker's "Daughter of the Glade" is presented as a companion piece, and I've likewise never heard the song. However, the lyrics are quite provocative and mischievous, as might suit a nymphic faun. "Creature of the Wood" is available on Heather Alexander's 1996 album Life's Flame; "Daughter of the Glade" is available on the Tricky Pixie - Live! album.)
"The Wendy Trilogy," by S.J. Tucker.
The last songs included are those three which compose "The Wendy Trilogy." This musical triptych is, of course, Tucker's alternate version of the happenings in the Peter Pan story, where Wendy becomes a pirate and swashbuckles her way across Neverland with a crew of Lost Girls. I've always found these rollicking songs to be a great deal of fun. (These songs are available on Tucker's 2006 album Sirens.)
Return later this weekend for the remainder of the review! You'll find talk of Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, Theodore Black, Amy Brown, James A. Owen and more!
Other reviews of Ravens in the Library:
talkstowolves: Part I of my review.
k_crow's review blurbs.
thewronghands' thoughts.
maverick_weirdo 's write-up.
jennifer_brozek's preliminary thoughts.
(Anyone know of any other reviews? Let me know and I'll add them here!)
Ravens in the Library is that anthology. It is a limited edition collection edited by SatyrPhil Brucato and Sandra Buskirk, available only until Tucker's medical expenses have been covered. This is my review: specifically, the second part. If you missed the first part of the review (which covers the first half of the TOC), click here.
Before we get started with the rest of the TOC and the lyrics included in Ravens in the Library, I should tell you that this review has ended up even longer than I expected it to become! Therefore, you don't get my thoughts on the art, the book's design, or the Introduction today. I'll post those later this weekend, in Part III.
On to the stories!
"Fortune," by Shira Lipkin.
This story hits on several of my favorite storytelling devices: Tarot cards and a mythological retelling (here, the Descent of Inanna). However, for some reason, the magical realism aspects didn't entirely mesh well with the terrifying, yes, but sadly all too typical narrative of the degradation and dissolution of a woman alone. However, in spite of that one complaint, this is a powerful recasting of the Inanna myth and Lipkin couldn't have picked a better back-drop than Vegas. Knowing that pieces of this story were autobiographical makes it linger all the more. This is the sixth tale original to this anthology.
"Pipsqueak," by Angel Leigh McCoy.
Considering this tale began as a well-written urban fantasy, I was disappointed when it failed to deliver an appropriate resolution. I also found that naming the heroine's accompanying pixies after the Endless from Neil Gaiman's Sandman was jarring rather than endearing. In any case, this story believably invokes the life of runaways and subtly comments upon the treatment of "lunatics" when they're just people who happen to see life a different way. I found the characters to be engaging, and only wish the bit about the dog and his keeper had been better explained. This is the seventh tale original to this anthology.
"Ravenous," by SatyrPhil Brucato.
If you could take an overwrought, melodramatic hard-rocker in her early 20's and squeeze all her angst onto the page, the runny mess of acid greens and eye-searing oranges and other such bilious (yet trippy) colors that would compose the resulting painting would invoke the feeling one has upon reading "Ravenous." Which happens to be about an overwrought, melodramatic hard-rocker and her real-life for-true horny version of the Green Fairy. They destroy things, until they figure out how not to. Originally appearing in Weird Tales, I'm glad Brucato chose to reprint it here.
"In His Own Image," by Alexandra Elizabeth Honigsberg.
Reading "In His Own Image" left me feeling sad and fascinated: Honigsberg's depictions of a creator pouring his heart and soul into the instruments he fashions were top-notch, as were here distressingly realistic depictions of a man letting his life and family fall apart in an onslaught of obsession. I also appreciate how she nicely painted the international community of the professional orchestral/soloist scene. This is the eighth tale original to the collection.
"Of Mouse, and Music," by Kris Millering
What a powerful little piece of whimsical loveliness! I delight in the concept of house as an organic and aware construction, adore the implied dual natures of its inhabitants, dance to the personification of music and teasingly included bits of technology. There's an ensemble cast in this short story, but they all feel like solid people with fantastic pasts. This story really just leaves me wanting more, so much more, set in the same world. This is the ninth tale original to the collection.
"A Thin Line, Between," by Jaymi Elford
This story seemed promising at first: an enigmatic figure appears in a nightclub, which soon takes on otherworldly qualities, perhaps a prelude to more important elements manifesting among the dancing crowd and acting out some strange pantomime. Unfortunately, it really was just an enigmatic girl in an enigmatic hat (that too often has to be described, in full, as a "big red velvet crumpled tophat") wandering around the club and mystifying people, maybe touching some lives. This one didn't stick with me long after turning the page. This is the tenth tale original to the collection.
"The Color of Angels," by Terri Windling.
Windling permitted a reprint of this stirring and absorbing piece of The Horns of Elfland. Another of my favorite tools in the artist's creative chest is color; Windling uses it to full effect here, lovingly describing the colors her arist-heroine thinks, feels, and paints. This is a story of love and loss (of others, of oneself), love for the city, love for the country, and the power traditional tales have in our lives. I drifted intoxicated in this piece, reveling in the emotions (delight, melancholy, hope) and the palette of colors. Another reprint gem.
"A Lust of Cupids," by Laurell K. Hamilton.
An amusing and quaint rumination on what life would be like were Cupid not only real, but a species of creature that hangs out in packs and can be bribed into plying the famous arrows for sweets (more often using them out of mischief or spite). There's not much to this story, but what is there provides a pleasant diversion during an afternoon wait (between classes, say, or at the laundromat). Fans of Laurell K. Hamilton will recognize this short piece from her Strange Candy collection.
"The Substance of Things Hoped For," by Mia Nutick.
"The Substance of Things Hoped For" was horrifying in that most awesome of ways: where you find your skin crawling and guts churning at the world presented to you, and you can't get enough of it. Because the world is fresh and well-envisioned, the perspective is immediately absorbing, and the new yet old approach to classic fantasy tropes inexorably reels in your mind. This is another story that made my Top 5 from this collection and its world full of magic and terror lingers with me still. This is the eleventh tale original to the collection.
"Lost," by Seanan McGuire.
McGuire's "Lost" is, hands down, the best tale in this anthology. From its opening hook of historical revelation, you're pulled along and deep down into the childlike wonder of moonlight songs and the heart-wrenching loss of a full generation of adults (and almost adults). This piece wrenched tears from me quite unbidden: sudden, surprising sobs bit back with wistful emotion. Powerful and terrible, smile-provoking and tear-inducing: as all the great stories are. This is the twelfth and final tale original to this collection.
MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENT:
Alongside the stories, several sets of lyrics were presented as well (which most fans of S.J. Tucker will be familiar with and so able to sing along-- an interactive anthology!).
"Ravens in the Library," by S.J. Tucker.
"Ravens in the Library," of course, inaugurates the collection. There is no recording of this song currently available, but I was lucky enough to hear Tucker play it live and so can hum along to its whimsical lines. Having the lyrics, printed, however, throws into sharp relief how little one later (overly didactic) stanza thematically belongs to the song.
"Creature in the Wood," by Alexander James Adams and "Daughter of the Glade," by S.J. Tucker.
I've never heard "Creature of the Wood" by Alexander James Adams before, though I imagine from the early lyrics that is has kind of a jig-like tune, which is definitely appropriate for a song coming from a satyr. However, as the piece goes on, it seems more melancholy. S.J. Tucker's "Daughter of the Glade" is presented as a companion piece, and I've likewise never heard the song. However, the lyrics are quite provocative and mischievous, as might suit a nymphic faun. "Creature of the Wood" is available on Heather Alexander's 1996 album Life's Flame; "Daughter of the Glade" is available on the Tricky Pixie - Live! album.)
"The Wendy Trilogy," by S.J. Tucker.
The last songs included are those three which compose "The Wendy Trilogy." This musical triptych is, of course, Tucker's alternate version of the happenings in the Peter Pan story, where Wendy becomes a pirate and swashbuckles her way across Neverland with a crew of Lost Girls. I've always found these rollicking songs to be a great deal of fun. (These songs are available on Tucker's 2006 album Sirens.)
Return later this weekend for the remainder of the review! You'll find talk of Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, Theodore Black, Amy Brown, James A. Owen and more!
Other reviews of Ravens in the Library:
talkstowolves: Part I of my review.
k_crow's review blurbs.
thewronghands' thoughts.
maverick_weirdo 's write-up.
jennifer_brozek's preliminary thoughts.
(Anyone know of any other reviews? Let me know and I'll add them here!)