Valente, Catherynne M. - The Orphan's Tales: In the Night Garden
I am not sure how to begin talking about this. To begin, as they say, at the beginning: I picked this up from the library late last year, after hearing buzz about it prior to the Tiptree award and even more buzz after. I read a few chapters, then my brain couldn't process the nested stories, and I was sad that the earlier stories felt Russian or vaguely European in tone. I returned it soon thereafter.
But something about it must have stuck with me, because I picked up the Haddawy version of The Arabian Nights that I've had sitting around for about two years, and the first thing I noticed was a translated metaphor about stories tattooed around eyes, or tattooed stories, or stories around eyes. I can't quite remember, but of course, such is the nature of stories.
I read some interviews with Valente afterward, and despite the somewhat Russian feel to the beginning, I happily noted that she mentioned almost all the characters were POC.
My second hold on the book finally came through a few days ago, and this time, I read it all in two or three sittings.
I give you all this extraneous, boring information about my life because the book itself is about storytellers and their audiences, how audiences become storytellers by telling how the stories shaped their own lives and perceptions, how audiences and storytellers shape the tale told. It's nested tale within nested tale, the final tale at the center swallowing and retelling the framing device. The first time, I was lost in the labyrinth of stories, but on rereading, I stopped marking my trail with white pebbles or breadcrumbs and let myself meander, always trusting the storytellers -- Valente and the orphan girl and the witches and beasts and monsters and virgins and those who are all of them -- to guide me through.
A feral girl in the sultan's garden has stories in tiny type tattooed around her eyes, circling over and over her eyelids. She tells the stories to one of the sultan's sons, though his older sister Dinarzad tries to prevent him from sneaking out. A prince kills a goose who is the daughter of a witch; an orphan girl with hair white as snow listens to a net weaver's tale; Stars are born and fall and die and rise again; cities unveil layers to those patient enough to dig around the foundations, to blow away centuries of dirt and find the history underneath.
I think I will save notes on gender and race for when I read the second book and can go into spoilery stuff. One quick note: At first, I was very confused by the worldbuilding, because though the mention of a sultan and the gardens were reminiscent of Arabian Nights, some of the food didn't feel Middle Eastern (possibly blackberries? I can't quite recall). But then, there would be Chinese-sounding games (lo shen) in an Arabian-sounding city led by a Papess, or Japanese fox women on pirate ships. I found that I tended to be more disconcerted by mentions of things that felt European to me in the cultures that didn't seem to be based on European cultures, or when things from two similar cultures were blended together (ex. foot binding, which afaik is Han Chinese, in the story of a woman with a Japanese name). I was definitely less bothered when the culture-crossing was done with two different European cultures, with a non-European element in what felt like a European culture, or with two different non-European cultures.
Just in case someone takes this wrong, I was not offended, given that every story in the book was multicultural. I.e. I am 99% sure Valente mixed cultures not because she could not distinguish between them, but because she was deliberately trying to include as many as she could and not privilege one over the others (I take off 1% because I am not Catherynne Valente, nor am I telepathic). I just found my own reaction interesting.
I highlight non-Western* cultures above, but in truth, Valente is interested in the stories of all who are usually the objects of stories, not the subjects nor the tellers. There are men and women and women who are men and men who are women and those who are neither; those who would be monsters in most stories are instead holy and beautiful or simply the norm.
The book is deeply transformative, critiquing the old and creating the new, engaging in metanarrative even as it spins an engaging, satisfying story on its own, and I particularly love how dedicated Valente is to the idea of the monstrous and whose perception makes monsters, of her continual highlighting of those who usually live in the margins of stories.
I'm really looking forward to the second book and finding out the story behind Dinarzad and the tattooed girl.
[Note] I know more people have read this! Pass me your links... I am dying to talk about this. Though please no spoilers for the second book.
Links:
- coffeeandink's review
- meganbmoore's review
- interview conducted by the ABW
- magicnoire's review
- interview conducted by rosefox
- minnow1212's review
* I know, I need a better term that does not define by negatives or by contrasting with a mythical norm, but I cannot think of one right now.
But something about it must have stuck with me, because I picked up the Haddawy version of The Arabian Nights that I've had sitting around for about two years, and the first thing I noticed was a translated metaphor about stories tattooed around eyes, or tattooed stories, or stories around eyes. I can't quite remember, but of course, such is the nature of stories.
I read some interviews with Valente afterward, and despite the somewhat Russian feel to the beginning, I happily noted that she mentioned almost all the characters were POC.
My second hold on the book finally came through a few days ago, and this time, I read it all in two or three sittings.
I give you all this extraneous, boring information about my life because the book itself is about storytellers and their audiences, how audiences become storytellers by telling how the stories shaped their own lives and perceptions, how audiences and storytellers shape the tale told. It's nested tale within nested tale, the final tale at the center swallowing and retelling the framing device. The first time, I was lost in the labyrinth of stories, but on rereading, I stopped marking my trail with white pebbles or breadcrumbs and let myself meander, always trusting the storytellers -- Valente and the orphan girl and the witches and beasts and monsters and virgins and those who are all of them -- to guide me through.
A feral girl in the sultan's garden has stories in tiny type tattooed around her eyes, circling over and over her eyelids. She tells the stories to one of the sultan's sons, though his older sister Dinarzad tries to prevent him from sneaking out. A prince kills a goose who is the daughter of a witch; an orphan girl with hair white as snow listens to a net weaver's tale; Stars are born and fall and die and rise again; cities unveil layers to those patient enough to dig around the foundations, to blow away centuries of dirt and find the history underneath.
I think I will save notes on gender and race for when I read the second book and can go into spoilery stuff. One quick note: At first, I was very confused by the worldbuilding, because though the mention of a sultan and the gardens were reminiscent of Arabian Nights, some of the food didn't feel Middle Eastern (possibly blackberries? I can't quite recall). But then, there would be Chinese-sounding games (lo shen) in an Arabian-sounding city led by a Papess, or Japanese fox women on pirate ships. I found that I tended to be more disconcerted by mentions of things that felt European to me in the cultures that didn't seem to be based on European cultures, or when things from two similar cultures were blended together (ex. foot binding, which afaik is Han Chinese, in the story of a woman with a Japanese name). I was definitely less bothered when the culture-crossing was done with two different European cultures, with a non-European element in what felt like a European culture, or with two different non-European cultures.
Just in case someone takes this wrong, I was not offended, given that every story in the book was multicultural. I.e. I am 99% sure Valente mixed cultures not because she could not distinguish between them, but because she was deliberately trying to include as many as she could and not privilege one over the others (I take off 1% because I am not Catherynne Valente, nor am I telepathic). I just found my own reaction interesting.
I highlight non-Western* cultures above, but in truth, Valente is interested in the stories of all who are usually the objects of stories, not the subjects nor the tellers. There are men and women and women who are men and men who are women and those who are neither; those who would be monsters in most stories are instead holy and beautiful or simply the norm.
The book is deeply transformative, critiquing the old and creating the new, engaging in metanarrative even as it spins an engaging, satisfying story on its own, and I particularly love how dedicated Valente is to the idea of the monstrous and whose perception makes monsters, of her continual highlighting of those who usually live in the margins of stories.
I'm really looking forward to the second book and finding out the story behind Dinarzad and the tattooed girl.
[Note] I know more people have read this! Pass me your links... I am dying to talk about this. Though please no spoilers for the second book.
Links:
- coffeeandink's review
- meganbmoore's review
- interview conducted by the ABW
- magicnoire's review
- interview conducted by rosefox
- minnow1212's review
* I know, I need a better term that does not define by negatives or by contrasting with a mythical norm, but I cannot think of one right now.