Spin Out - movie review

It's not fantasy - at least no more than your standard romantic comedy :-) - but here is my review of

the recent Aussie release Spin Out. 

http://www.thereelword.net/spin-out-movie-review/

Silver Brumby by Elyne Mitchell

I just had a revelation. Specifically, about The Silver Brumby books that were a childhood obsession of mine. (And an adulthood obsession, going by my Ebay history.)

They were written between 1958 and 1979 by Elyne Mitchell, who was frustrated by her ten year old daughter's lack of interest in books. Taking inspiration from her daughter's interest in horses and her own love of the native landscape, she wrote a series of short novels around a lineage of wild horses in the Snowy Mountains.

The initial book follows the birth and early life of Thowra, a rare wild "creamy" brumby whose colouring is a disadvantage in the bush. He has to be smarter and faster than any other horse to survive and remain free. The sequels follow his descendants and later adventures.

These were some of the earliest Australian literature to really strike a cord with me, for reasons I struggled to articulate. It wasn't the narrative, as the plots were either simplistic or meandering. Nor was it the characters, as there's a limit to what you can do with non-anthropomorphic animal characters.

Then on the weekend while I was driving, thinking about nothing in particular, it suddenly hit me. The Silvery Brumby books aren't about the characters. Sure, the characters are there, but they're not the focus. The real soul and center of the books is the landscape. Or more specifically, the characters' relationship with the landscape.

For them the mountains are an enemy that can kill with flood, fire, starvation and a hundred other awful ways. But they are also a wondrous home, offering beauty, shelter and freedom. The flowing prose is almost worshipful, detailing sunsets, bird cries, and storms with almost poetic terms. The reader exists within the characters' reaction in a place where goals and motivations are almost superfluous. Everything is at the mercy of the world around them.

These aren't perfect books by any means. My housemate called Thowra a Mary Sue for entirely justified reasons and the female characters exist mostly as objectives to be obtained (based on real life horse behaviour). Not to mention, the series is very inconsistent on whether the horses can actually 'talk' with one another or not.

However it's one of those rare instances where the flaws are part of the magic. Like the mountains, their imperfection is what makes the books beautiful.

"Through the bush he went, a proud-stepping beautiful stallion, in the prime of his life, cream and silver, dappled by light and shade as pale shafts of sunlight from the cloudy sky fell on to him through the grey-green gum leaves." 

Sisters of Fire by Kim Wilkins

Last year I reviewed Daughters of the Storm, a compelling fusion of high fantasy and high tragedy by Kim Wilkins where there were no clear-cut heroes or villains. (I may or may not have been gushing like a giddy schoolgirl.)

So I'm very happy to report that Sisters of Fire is a worthy sequel, following the fallout of the characters' choices. Bluebell hunts down a magic sword rumored to bring about her death, Ivy takes desperate measures in an unhappy marriage, Rose struggles to save her daughter from an insidious threat, Willow follows the path of her religion, and Ash seeks to prevent a terrible future.

Given Ash's adventures it would be easy to argue the book is about the inevitability of fate and being doomed by our inherent failings. However that overlooks the characters' growth (or lack thereof) and how they respond to the consequences of their actions. At least one sister has learned from her mistakes, takes care not to repeat them, and earns a reasonably happy outcome. Another sister seems intent on repeating her past on an even more disastrous scale, and another seems tragically incapable of change.

Apparently the moral of the story is that fate can be challenged so long as we learn from our past and don't go repeating the same cycle. (Which was why a lot of of my time was spent going "Oh Ivy, no".)

Bluebell isn't quite as bad as her sister, but still isn't much better. She remains the same fascinatingly complex character that's a mix of both selfish and selfless. On the one hand, everything she does is with the good of the kingdom in mind. On the other, she demands sacrifices from others that she herself refuses to make, such as selling her sisters into unhappy marriages while ignoring her father's request she marry to produce an heir. This contradiction makes her the most compelling character of the series.

She's also one of the best written female warriors I've ever encountered in high fantasy. Many similar characters occupy a position of resistance, where they must earn the respect of the men around them (Eowyn, Brienne of Tarth, Alanna of Trebond, Princess Cassandra...I could go on) but Bluebell doesn't earn respect, she expects it. In fact, she encompasses many traits traditionally associated with men, including brutal practicality, single mindedness and a certain lack of empathy toward others. And none of this makes her a villain, just a person with flaws.

Speaking of villains, I won't name any names, but I found their evolution equally interesting. The lengths of their self-deception was a little frightening, as was their expanding influence. It was difficult, however, not to sympathise with someone so clearly insane. A lot of pain and death could have been averted by access to a good counselor and prescription medication.

Unless of course their delusions aren't delusions, in which case I'm terrified for the next book.

"Bluebell didn't like the idea of magic; she didn't like anything she couldn't see and smash."

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.