capsule review: alabaster
Janet's still getting over the jet lag, and so has been taking naps in the afternoon. As she slept yesterday, I cracked open Alabaster by Caitlin R. Kiernan (greygirlbeast), turned to the Alternate Table of Contents (wherein the stories are laid out in chronlogical order of occurrence rather than order of publication), and read the first story, "The Well of Stars and Shadow," which begins thusly:
Through the deepening slash-pine shadows, the dim and fading shafts of twilight falling pale through the high branches of Shrove Wood, and Dancy Flammarion follows the familiar twists and turns of Wampee Creek. The cinnamon ferns and saw palmetto grown waist high to an eight year old, understory carpet of rust fronds and emerald-sharp leaves, and she watches the uneven ground, mindful of where she puts her feet, watching for snakes and steel-jawed traps laid among the pine straw. Traps set for raccoon and bobcats, but they're just as happy to snap shut on little girl ankles, even this strange albino child who can only go out to play when the sun turns fat and red and sinks slow into the swamp.
"You watch yourself now. Don't go getting lost or hurt," her mother or grandmother always says, and "I won't. I'm very, very careful," Dancy always reassures them. "I know my way," and she does, the long mile and a half between their cabin and the place where Wampee Creek spills out into the wide, peatdark lake that no one has ever bothered to name. But they worry for her anyway, this girl all they have left in the world, and sometimes, hazy grey evenings when the cicadas are a little quieter than they should be or her mother doesn't like the look of the stars rising over the trees, Dancy carries her grandmother's crucifix in the bib pocket of her overalls, near her heart, and maybe a sprig of pennyroyal or dried angelica root wrapped in a white cotton handkerchief, as well.
"Never hurt nobody yet to be too cautious," her grandmother might say, and "Better safe than sorry," her mother might nod. So Dancy carries their charms, and wears her own tarnished St. Christopher's medal, and watches where she puts her feet.
An incredible beginning to an incredible collection, and I finished the entire book before Janet woke up. Alabaster gathers up all the short stories featuring monster-slayer Dancy Flammarion (first introduced in Kiernan's second novel Threshold, which still may be my favorite of hers), as well as "Bainbridge," an original novella. Subterranean Press has once again outdone themselves in the gorgeousness and gorgeosity of the book design, and Ted Naifeh's cover art and interior illustrations are the perfect counterpoint to the short stories within.
The book has already sold out on the publisher's website, but you can still find copies at Clarkesworld Books, Shocklines, and Amazon. I highly suggest finding a copy, because this incredible collection is not to be missed.
Kiernan has stated that she will not be writing any more Dancy stories from now on, but I do hope she will come back one day to this compelling character. It feels as if there are many more stories yet to tell about her, many more monsters to encounter, and if so, I'll certainly be along for the ride.
