The Sea and Summer by George Turner

One of the things I love about this blog project is that I keep discovering all these obscure, wonderful Aussie writers that have been forgotten or overlooked by the mainstream.

George Turner's The Sea and Summer (published in the US as The Drowning Towers) is a perfect example. This novel centers around a family during a time of social turmoil and uses this very personal setting to explore the consequences of climate change. It's a fascinatingly melancholy tale that richly deserves it's status of science fiction classic, and yet I'd never heard of it before now.

Despite being written by the seventies by a successful mainstream novelist and being one of the few Australian-written books on Gollancz's SF Masterworks, it seems almost unknown by my generation. Considering that I did a creative writing degree at an Australian university and all my friends are book-nerds or librarians, I'm bewildered that I haven't even heard of it before. Not even a passing mention
                                                            or a website review.

What I enjoyed about The Sea and Summer was the lack of an antagonist. Most dystopian books are stories of resistance, of little people against oppressive regimes like 1984 or the Hunger Games. For them there are terrible external enemies that must be vanquished for the world to right itself. 

But for George Turner's characters, the enemy is far more subtle than that. It comes from within. The family's downfall from 'Sweet' (financially self-sufficient) to 'Swill' (living on government subsidies) begins with the loss of the father's job. And as the burdens of poverty and social class press in on them, the entire family makes choices on how to deal with it; some selfish, some tragic. 

In a way their family is a metaphor for modern attitudes to environmental and economic disaster. That sense of "this problem's too big, I can't fix it, I can only save myself". That sense of abdicated responsibility as they make their own individual grabs for solvency. Yet - and this is very important - none of the family ever manage to escape the Swill. They each pay dearly for an illusion of freedom, but they all end up in the Swill one way or another. The problem is too big to be escaped, as is the inevitable creeping cultural shift. The only way to survive it (not stop it, there's no stopping what's been put into motion) is together.

It's the most oddly depressing and yet hopeful book I've ever read, with a pensive attitude towards climate change. It matter-of-factly dismisses the notion of  the end of the world, pointing out humanity's ability to adapt to much worse disasters with far less technology. But it also is very clear that adaptation will come with painful, difficult change. We don't get away without consequences.

Perhaps the subject matter is why this book isn't well known. With climate change and economic strife in the news, the last thing that readers want is reality tainting their escapism. Which is a shame, because of all the books on the subject, this is probably the most realistic and least hysterical. 

Top Five Star-Crossed Lovers in Aussie High Fantasy

Romance is a big part of high fantasy. Whether it's Etta's misguided yearning for Kennit that made her consort to a pirate king or Daenerys' marriage to Drogo that put her on the road to power, the romances are epic and life-changing.

However they don't always work out. Sometimes they end very badly. So here the top five star-crossed lovers in Australian high fantasy. All couples on this list share a mutual attraction which they are unable to follow through on and originate from a series by an Australian author.

Because this post will be discussing plot points of various books, watch out for *SPOILERS*.

Prophecy doesn't care what you want.  

5. Axis and Farady - The Axis Trilogy

Yes, big surprise. A Sara Douglass novel is on a list of ill-fated romances.

Axis and Faraday met during a relatively innocent time of their lives, before they encountered the Forbidden or the Prophecy that would shape their lives and very identities. Axis was a bastard prince assigned to escort Faraday to her wedding to his hated half-brother. Their forbidden attraction would shape the fate of Tencendor.

But not in a way that either of them would like. Axis' enemy got wind of their love and captured Faraday, intending to use her as a hostage. Axis had to watch her torn to literal pieces in front of him, unable to move without losing his advantage. And he only managed it because he'd fallen in love with someone else, which just adds insult to injury.

What could be more romantic than fighting
monsters in a bloody war?

4. Willan and Hrudis - A Dark Winter

For a slightly less bloody example, there's the unlikely attraction between Hrudis and Willan.

Hrudis was a shield-maiden, sworn to chastity and the sword. Willan was a guardsman-turned-squire among reinforcements sent to help defend her homeland. It would be a stretch to call it a relationship as they never made any promises or consummated the simmering sexual tension - but they were trying not to be killed by zombies or monsters, so you can't fault their priorities.

In fact, Willan and Hrudis managed to act like adults, which is a rare thing to see. They knew from the start it was never going to happen, not without one of them giving up a vital calling. There was no drama, no angst, just a single quiet kiss before they parted ways forever.

3. Rhian and Zandakar - Godspeaker Trilogy

No, royal weddings don't fix everything.

Speaking of acting like adults, there's a reason the only two sane people in the Godspeaker Trilogy are attracted to one another. Rhian was a princess struggling to claim her throne in the face of rampant misogyny. Zandakar was a prince exiled from his home for daring to suggest that maybe genocide wasn't the best foreign policy.

Zandakar was one of the first men to ever take Rhian's ambitions seriously and Rhian gave Zandakar a much-needed purpose. In any other story, they would have married, bringing peace and unity between their lands.

But not this one.

In a surprisingly realistic twist, Zandakar returned home to rule his people while Rhian remained behind to rebuild hers. They never spoke of their feelings and never met again.

Love doesn't overcome every
obstacle. And thank god for that.

2. Zenith and StarDrifter - The Wayfarer Redemption

I'm going to catch so much flack for this...Yes, he's her grandfather. Yes, it's all kinds of ickie and wrong. Just let me explain.

Zenith and StarDrifter were from the royal family of the Icarri, and therefore cursed only to ever feel real passion for those within the same bloodline. So their falling in love was totally acceptable in their culture, except that Zenith was raised with human attitudes and was revolted by her own desires, ending their relationship before it even began.

And then Zenith was gruesomely murdered by a madwoman, because this is a Sara Douglass series and no one can ever have nice things, ever.

1. Ylena and Alyd - The Quickening

Beauty may not be a curse but pervy
princes definitely are (fanart by celladore)

Children avert your eyes! The final and worst-fated couple on this list are not for the faint-hearted.

Ylena and Alyd were two young nobles sickeningly in love. Unfortunately Ylena received word that a corrupt prince intended to demand her as a tourney prize and married Alyd in secret. When the prince found out he backed off, because apparently ceremonial rape is okay, but adultery is just a step too far.

The day is saved, the bad guy is thwarted, it's a happy ending, right?

Wrong. The prince did not take rejection well. He framed Ylena's family for treason, executed Alyd and puts his decapitated head in the cell where Ylena was imprisoned so she could look at it all day and night. Ylena eventually escaped, only to die a painfully pointless death.

Proving that you don't have to be in a George R. Martin novel for your epic stars-colliding romance to go down in flames.

City of Light by Keri Arthur

As a rule, I steer clear of Keri Arthur's work. Not because it isn't good (it is), but because it leans too far into paranormal romance territory for my tastes. I like my action bloodier and my romance more subdued.

But her recent novel, City of Light, is like she psychically sensed all my reservations and wrote a 300 page book just to prove me wrong. 

It's set in a future dystopia after humanity lost a war with shapeshifters (thus combining my two favorite things; magic and science fiction). Life is hard on everyone, but especially Tiger, a genetically engineered supersoldier that miraculously survived the purge of her kind after the war. She spends her time hiding out in an old lab and talking to ghosts, until she rescues two living people and is reluctantly drawn into a mystery of disappearing children and illegal experimentation.

What's interesting about Tiger is that she exists so much in her head. Being discovered as dechet is a death sentence so she spends most of her time calculating who to lie to and what to lie about. It makes the outside world so exhausting it's completely understandable why Tiger would prefer to be alone and not deal with that rig-moral.

The real surprise is that she's not more introverted and bitter than she is. What happened to her kind is horrifying, especially when they were the most blameless faction in the war. They were exploited by humans, murdered by the shapeshifters, and depicted as monsters by history.  It's the kind of horrendous injustice that can only be reflected by real life and Tiger is way too calm and philosophical about it.

To kill or not to kill Jonas.
That is the question. 

For example, there is that gem of a moment where potential love-interest Jonas first refuses to believe in the dechet massacres, then says it was the only way to get rid of the "perversion". And he throws it in the face of a woman he suspects to be a survivor. If Tiger had decided to throw Jonas to the vampire horde there and then, I'd have held her coat. I didn't hate even Branna this much because at least Branna was upfront about wanting to kill Tiger. Jonas' words are something more insidious.

I will say this though - Tiger doesn't turn into a puddle of goo when Jonas softens toward her. She correctly perceives that his shift in attitude isn't a change of opinion toward her kind, just a re-evaluation of how valuable her skill-set is. Like her human masters before him, he wants to use her. And she is not afraid to tell him and his asshole friends to eat a dick.

Slow. Fucking. Clap.

I really hope that she doesn't backslide in the next novel, because it is incredibly satisfying to see a protagonist stick to her guns. If Jonas does become a love interest in Winter Halo, he'd better do some damn character development first.

The Crucible by Sara Douglass

For some readers, the Axis and Wayfarer Trilogies were the peak of Sara Douglass' career. And more power to them; there's a special place in my heart for epic adventures viewed through a twisted lens, where the heroes' hands aren't clean and even the happiest of endings is bittersweet.

For me, however,  Sara Douglass' magnum opus was The Crucible.

This three-book trilogy is set in the Middle-Ages with a bitter, self-righteous monk chosen by Heaven and Hell to cast the deciding vote in their never-ending conflict. All Thomas has to do is choose who will get his soul; Heaven or a faithless prostitute. It seems like a no-brainer, which of course means it's not that simple. And to make matters worse, demons are strewing all sorts of temptations in Thomas' path...surely it won't matter if his soul is just a little tarnished...

Not many people have heard of this series, probably because it sounds like Christian propaganda. I'd have steered clear if I didn't trust Sara Douglass (replace 'trust' with 'addict looking for her next fix') and found it well worth the price of admission. Like Thomas' apparently simple choice, there's a lot more going on than is immediately apparent.

The first book The Nameless Day is the hardest to get through, because Thomas has his head firmly lodged up his arse for most of it. He's thoroughly unlikable character, utterly convinced of the sinful nature of mankind (especially women) and his own special status as God's Chosen One. It takes several gut-punches before he starts un-clenching and realises it's not a sin to give a damn about other people.

The Wounded Hawk is where everything really takes off, and Thomas (and the readers) start getting answers about what's really going on. It seems everyone has a secret and an agenda, even Thomas' closest friends. Whether they're scheming for England's throne or a heavenly one (or both), people are doing awful things to fulfill their goals. Yet he also finds grace in the most unlikely places.

Matters rockets to a conclusion in The Crippled Angel which is historical fiction on crack, including

Image by ChristinZakh.
This is not fanart - but it's an
accurate summation of how
everyone's day is going. 

Joan of Arc, sleazy angels, a scheming demon prince, Jesus breaking out of heaven, and an inanimate landmass that takes an extreme dislike to its would-be king. Thomas has done a complete one-eighty from his previous self and is a likable guy who just wants to save mankind. Unfortunately, his enemies have had thousands of years to prepare and have multiple layers of entrapment to ensure he chooses correctly.

This is Sara Douglass at the top of her game. It toys with expectations and there's as much squalor and brutality as there is sex and glory. Anyone with strong feelings about Christianity will definitely be offended by it's take on God and organised religion while historians will be tickled pink by its use of historical figures (though I'm told some events and dates were played fast and loose).

For me, it was a fantastic deconstruction of the politics of religion and helped articulate my own uneasiness about Christianity. The ideas and principles might be sound, just be wary of the people building a power base on them because they'll always have an agenda.

And it was just really nice to see Jesus get a happy ending for once. After two thousand years the guy deserves it.

WTF...

Someone added Down Under by Tam Ames to my Goodreads list of Australian Science Fiction.

It looks like a gay love story in futuristic dystopian Australia involving a road trip with a man who shape-shifts into a kangaroo. This is either a hilarious satire of urban fantasy or stone-cold serious, which will also be hilarious.

I'm guiltily intrigued. I must read this. Because he shapes-shifts into a kangaroo.

I mean, most people would go straight for dingo or crocodile. You know, the traditionally dangerous Australian animal.

...though red kangaroos are freaking scary. Have you ever been up close to one? They are massive and built of this ropy muscle with clawed hindlegs for disembowelling, and if it's hit by a car, the car loses...

On second thought. Kangaroo shapeshifter. Good choice.

Outland - TV series

Late to the party, as per usual. Why did this show not get more coverage? Australian comedy involving science fiction and alternate sexuality...without making fun of either! Do you know how rare this is?!

*Sigh* Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go find a copy elsewhere.

https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2012/february/1328832697/benjamin-law/outland-kevin-carlin

Vigil by Angela Slatter

Angela Slatter is one of those writers I wish I'd discovered sooner. Her short stories have been nominated three times for Aurelis awards and despite being mostly fantasy, there's nothing sweet or trite about them. They go back to the dark heart of fairy tales, where trespassing children can and do end up in the witch's oven, and fair maidens only get out of their predicaments by being very resourceful and brave.

So imagine my glee at discovering Slatter's recent full-length novel Vigil!

This book is full-blown urban fantasy, delving into a rich underworld underlying Brisbane where the supernatural Weyrd live unseen among humankind. The half-human Verity Fassbinder must find a dangerous monster before it exposes the Weyrd while solving two disappearances that may or may not be related.

Verity is your standard urban fantasy protagonist. She stands between two cultures and occupies a role of protector/mediator that is thankless but necessary (for other examples, see Rachel Morgan, Anita Blake and Harry Dresden). She's smart, cynical and is quick with irreverent quips. However, repetition is not necessarily a bad thing, as this kind of character is traditional in urban fantasy for a reason. (For an example of this kind of character that doesn't work, see Faythe from Stray, who allegedly possesses all these qualities and demonstrates none).

That said, Verity does manage to distinguish herself from her cohorts in at least one important way: she doesn't have anyone telling her how special she is. This might sound cruel, but it's a recurring trope in urban fantasy I find blatantly manipulative. The Hollows, a series I otherwise adore, is particularly guilty of this sin, with characters continuously telling Rachel Morgan that everything about her is just incredible, from her sex life to her moral code.

Verity firmly defies this trope. Her divided heritage is not particularly unique and gives her an even balance of advantages and disadvantages just like any other Weyrd. In fact the entire book deconstructs the seductive fantasy of 'special'. Whether you are offered the chance to become special, or born that way, more often than not it's a crapshoot. 'Special' can also mean freak, which entails isolation, rejection and sometimes violence.

Before this review goes overboard praising Tall Poppy Syndrome, I will note that I was very uncomfortable with Verity's solution to the 'double-winged' problem. At the very least she was removing choices a person might want in the future. Being different might not always be wise, but it's still a valid choice. (There's a reason 'be yourself' is a powerful message). Granted the alternative was 'apocalypse' but the text shouldn't have tried to pass Verity's actions off as an unambiguously good act. She was doing something horrible to stop something worse and should have acknowledged that.

Other than that, I thoroughly enjoyed Vigil. Slatter's weaving of fantasy with the real-life Brisbane and Gold Coast landscape created a powerful mythology. Despite some occasionally shaky footing, she has crafted a neatly thought-out barb aimed at the heart of the urban fantasy genre. Hopefully it won't go unnoticed and we will get less 'special' protagonists in future.

Also, for fellow-natives, the mysterious Boatman apparently paddles the Brisbane river with the souls
of the dead in his canoe. Try catching the citycat at night and thinking about that.