Lowachee, Karin: The Gaslight Dogs
The Gaslight Dogs (2010)
Written by: Karin Lowachee
Genre: Fantasy
Pages: 360 (Mass Market Paperback)
I have a lot of favorite authors. My husband chides me for it, because when I go to the bookstore, I'll say, "One of my favorite authors has a new book!" and because I say that so often, the term favorite has kind of lost its meaning. Let's face it, I've got lots of favorites. I'd be hard-pressed to find any other reader who reads as much as me NOT to be in the same boat.
However, Karin Lowachee manages to rise above that pack of favorites for a few reasons. For starters, her space opera debut Warchild, was the best book I'd ever read to that date, and even today, I love that book so much I'm afraid of re-reading it for fear of spoiling what made it so good in the first place. Does that make sense? Probably not. But I read the rest of her books ( Burndive and Cagebird respectively), bought the only two anthologies that have her short stories in them (that I've yet to read, but that gives me something to look forward to), and then waited impatiently for the next book to arrive. And since I follow Lowachee's blog, I was well-aware of that process.
The other reason I think Lowachee remains a favorite, aside from her skill, is the fact that unlike the rest of my favorites, Lowachee doesn't publish a book every single year (or several times per year). I can't get burnt out on her work unless I keep re-reading what I have, and she doesn't fall into the trap of slumping because she's writing too fast to meet deadlines. But the flip side is that unlike uber-popular authors like George R.R. Martin and Patrick Rothfuss, who make fans wait years between installments, a new Lowachee book is not a guarantee. In fact, it's a privilege. Because Lowachee is one of those authors who has to hope one book does well before another is contracted, so when I tell you that yes, this is the first book of what obviously a trilogy of some sort, don't take that to mean you need to wait to get it until the trilogy is complete, because if Lowachee doesn't get the sales, the series will not be completed.
That is the nature of a mid-list author. It's not pleasant. It's kind of like watching a new television series that gets low ratings but trying to get everyone you can to watch anyway in hopes that it'll make just enough difference between renewal and cancellation. Why put yourself through that? Because the show is good, and it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.
In this case, we're not facing loss. But I want to stress that this isn't a series that's been contracted for x-number of books. We don't know when, or if, we'll get the next one. That's the way publishing works for a LOT of writers. So, it's up to the reader. If you're interested at all, do your part as a consumer and read, read, read (and that, in this case, translates to buy, buy, buy!).
NOTE: No, Lowachee has not asked me to make that plea. In fact, she might be embarrassed when she reads this. :) But seriously, I know the attitudes out there when it comes to serial fiction, and a LOT of readers would rather wait until the series is done before dipping their toes in the water. And for writers like George R. R. Martin, that's fine. Not so for writers like Karin Lowachee.
The premise: ganked from BN.com: At the edge of the known world, an ancient nomadic tribe faces a new enemy--an Empire fueled by technology and war. A young spiritwalker of the Aniw and a captain in the Ciracusan army find themselves unexpectedly thrown together. The Aniw girl, taken prisoner from her people, must teach the reluctant soldier a forbidden talent--one that may turn the tide of the war and will surely forever brand him an outcast. From the rippling curtains of light in an Arctic sky, to the gaslit cobbled streets of the city, war is coming to the frozen north. Two people have a choice that will decide the fates of nations--and may cast them into a darkness that threatens to bring destruction to both their peoples.
Review style: let's see, I want to discuss how Lowachee's use of POV is an effective method of storytelling and how it relates to the emotion of the piece and characters; the heavy sense of realism and history despite Lowachee writing in a secondary world, the believability of these characters who are all too human, and lastly, how the book does resolve even though it's clearly the start of something much bigger. No spoilers.
Point of view. Verb tense. They kind of go hand-in-hand, and it's a tool that Lowachee uses to marvelous effect. Most writers just go with what's traditional, or what's easy for them, without much thought to how that particular POV impacts the story or characters. But Lowachee is a far more shrewd. The POV and verb tense used often has a revelatory impact on the scene you're reading, if you're paying attention and not getting pissy just because the author switched gears. In Cagebird, it was the use of both first person present and first person past for the same POV character, but because the story flip-flopped between present events and past events, the switch in verb tense made a hell of a lot of sense. In Warchild, Lowachee starts out with the second-person POV (you do this, you do that) and progresses to first person past to first person present, all of which reflect that specific character's growth and ability to relate to the situation at hand.
In The Gaslight Dogs, it is something far simpler. We get two third-person POVs, but that third-person POV will slip into present tense what that particular character is interacting with their world through their Dog. Which makes sense to anyone who either understands dogs or regularly watches Cesar Millan's The Dog Whisperer. Dogs live in the here and now, and what better way to express that than writing the Dogs' POV in present tense? I can't think of any, but it is sort of similar to what Carrie Vaughn does when Kitty transforms into a werewolf in the Kitty Norville series: only Vaughn transitions from first person past to third person present, thereby removing Kitty as a character from her wolf and keeping the two separate.
There's nothing separate about Sjenn and her Dog. They are one, and I really love the magic involved in this world and the relationship between human and spirit, and how the Dog actually works. The body is in a trance-state, vulnerable to the outside, while the Dog is free to roam. Fascinating work, and what a great weakness. And no, she's NOT a werewolf. Banish that thought from your head!
Lowachee explains in a Q&A in the back that this is indeed a secondary, made-up world, but it's heavily based on our own. Her Aniw are based on the Inuit peoples of the North, but it's definitely her own spin. Which is good: we get characters who are racially different than the usual white men and women that populate fiction, characters who are based in reality, but are still the author's own creation in terms of world-building.
And it doesn't stop there. At first, I had trouble placing myself in the book. There's different tribes who have to deal with white men's society, and each tribe has their own word for the same thing. Then there's the white society, which has its own place names and terminology for those native peoples, who are also fleeing from their homeland in an effort to make a new home in a new land while trying to work out some kind of peace (or in some cases, NOT) with the natives.
Sound familiar? Hopefully, you're not as dense as I and you'll pick up on the comparisons pretty quick. It took me a while, but once I did, I was like, "Ohhh!!!" This isn't to say Lowachee is ripping off history directly. There are differences, and I suspect the more you know your history, the more differences you'll spot, but it helps to have a basis for comparison. Me, I thought of the pilgrims fleeing England and their attempt to settle North America while trying to maintain peace with the natives (or not). It's loosely based on that, only don't picture the story here, picture it MUCH farther North.
And the reasons for leaving, while similar, are different. There's clearly a difference in religion, but there's also the trouble of magic, and I get the sense that the Ciracusans (aka white people) were fleeing from the magic of their homeland and what it'd done to the people there. Not sure. That's part of the larger story, but enough backstory is given that the reader can make some assumptions and be intrigued. At least, I know I was.
Characterization is something to be applauded here. Sjenn's POV was radically different than Jarrett's, and rightfully so. A lesser writer wouldn't have been able to make the distinction, or worse, would've made Sjenn come off as a caricature of a native person. I loved reading from Sjenn's POV, how everything that's so familiar to the Ciracusans (aka white men) is so utterly alien and weird to her. And on the flip side, I liked reading Jarrett's POV too, even though he was more unlikable in that he's a bit of a biggot and completely and totally resistant to what Sjenn has to teach him. But here's the thing: both characters are deeply flawed, which makes them deeply human, but both are incredibly sympathetic. Lowachee walks a fine line here, and I'm not sure how she does it, because it'd be easy to be irritated with Jarrett's resistance and outbursts, but on the flipside, Lowachee doesn't rush characterization just to get the unpleasant part out of the way. It's almost as if she sits down and puts herself in that character's shoes: "How would I feel, how would I react, if this were me?" And then she writes it that way. What Jarrett has to deal with are things most people can't get over quickly, if at all, if they were raised the same way as he, and that's what makes his journey so compelling. And a similar note, the same is true for Sjenn. Sure, she has a completely different path to walk, but we never question her motivations and the times we do wonder, we always get answers for her actions. Both characters have goals, and by the end of the book, we see a resolution of those goals. Each character gets something they want but not in the way they expect (don't worry, that's not a spoiler), and let me say one thing: I can't believe I didn't see that end coming, because in hindsight, it makes perfect sense.
Well, mostly perfect sense. Due to the nature of, say, Keeley, and Jarrett's inability to come out and say something directly, I'm still wondering where Jarrett's gift came from. Has he always had it and if so, how? If not, was he, erm, infected at the beginning of the book? I'm going for the latter, but I wish I knew how exactly that worked (we'll find out in another book, I'm sure!), but for a while, I thought perhaps that Jarrett's mother wasn't who he thought it was. I don't think that's the case, but I wondered.
The ending is shocking. So much so that it takes a while to process, because your brain resists what's on the page and starts demanding explanations. But there aren't any easy answers, but the easiest relates to the conflict between father and son and what can come out of such a poisonous relationship. It's heart-breaking, but it makes sense. Lowachee has a way of breaking the reader's heart while still providing a fulfilling ending. Sure, it's obviously a set up for something bigger, and OMG I want to see what that something bigger is, but the immediate story? The one where an Aniw girl much teach a Ciracusan man the nature of her magic and make him what he despises? Totally resolved. It's time to move on, even though the end will kill you.
In a good way. With Lowachee's gift of writing, it's always a good way.
If I had a nitpick, and unfortunately I did not mark down any examples to cite, but there were times, more often in the beginning than the end, but they were scattered through-out the book, where the sentence structure just didn't make sense and I'd have to re-read a section to make sure I was understanding the meaning correctly. This wasn't in dialogue either, but when it happened, I'd go, "Wha . . .?" and read back what I'd just read. Once usually cleared it up, but I'd read slow just to make sure. This, I think, is simply the nature of the writing voice. All people have a certain manner of speaking, and things that make perfectly good sense to one person may not make much sense at all outside of that person's region. :) I speak from my own Southern experience, when my Pennsylvanian mentor would mark up my manuscript with the phrase, "Not English!" even though what I'd written made perfect sense to me. :)
Then again, I'm not as polished a writer as Lowachee, and so those instances may just be my brain malfunctioning and not reading properly. It happens all the time, believe me. But if it was functioning normally, it's not something I'm too concerned about. It didn't affect my overall reading. I just remember that I had those instances, and it may have been just me getting used to the narrative voice, which is (and should be) strongly linked to the POV character.
My Rating
Must Have: for readers who want a fantasy that's nothing like the usual, this is something you should seriously consider. I mean, how many fantasies feature Inuit-based heroines and take place in the Arctic? It's kind of like historical fantasy in a secondary world, because there's so much in the world-building that can be translated to our own history. That's what gives the book its weight and gravitas, that and the strength of Lowachee's writing and characterization. The characters here are brutally human, flawed and sympathetic all at the same time. The world-building is excellent, and I loved the nature of magic in this world and how it works. I can only pray we get more books in the series, because this is good, solid fantasy. Lowachee isn't a writer you read for mindless escapism; rather, she's an author whose work you can savor, an author who creates characters you can easily see as real and tangible, people you could interact with. It's a solid fantasy that's both similar and different than her science fiction, and I can't wait to read more (of both).
NOTE: there will be a GIVEAWAY for this book offered VERY SOON. Keep your eyes peeled!
Cover Commentary: I love the coloring and the depiction of the Dog (who looks so much like a wolf, but that's appropriate, since Jarrett keeps wanting to call Sjenn's Dog a wolf), and as a whole, the cover's grown on me. When I saw it at first, I was like, "Well, it's done very well, but it's not my thing," but now that I've read the book itself, well, like I said, the cover's grown on me. The rendition of Sjenn is very well done, and I had no trouble picturing her while reading, and that's a testament to Lowachee's description and the artist's willingness to use it. And here's a rare case where I'll say, "Yay for tattoos!" Because they're supposed to be there. :)
Next up: The Better Part of Darkness by Kelly Gay