Book Review: Bibliomancy, by Elizabeth Hand

Synopsis:: A collection of four short stories and novellas-- 'Cleopatra Brimstone', 'Pavane for a Prince of the Air', 'Chip Crockett's Christmas Carol', and 'The Least Trumps'. Only 500 copies of this book were ever printed, each hand-signed by the author. Includes an introduction by Lucius Shepard, and story notes by the author. All of the stories, save 'Chip Crockett's Christmas Carol', will be reprinted in the forthcoming Saffron and Brimstone.

Cleopatra Brimstone::

Of the four stories included in this volume, 'Cleopatra Brimstone' comes the closest to horror. It is the story of Janie Kendall, who has, since birth, had a fascination with winged insects. During puberty, she sprouts antennae from her eyebrows, but quickly plucks them out. She goes away to a prestigious female college to continue her studies, and it is there she undergoes a transformative experience. One night, as she walks home from the lab, she is raped. The rest of the story takes place in London's Camden Town, where Janie has gone to housesit for family friends. After a bizarre experience at a seedy industrial nightclub, Hive, Janie transforms into something else entirely-- shaving off her hair, trading in her sensible wardrobe for one of latex and netting, and discovering some new, disturbing talents.

The story itself is absolutely riveting-- the discription so vivid that it leapt off the page. At it's core are the motifs of rape, control, the reclaiming of power, the abuse of power. In that, the story is dark, and terrifying-- the transformation of the terror of rape to a literal horror was gorgeously done. It is a classic vengeance story-- a victim turned monster herself-- but with a grim, chilly twist. I have to admit that at first, I was put off by some of Janie's new talents-- they do require an incredible suspension of disbelief-- but as this is squarely a genre tale and the plot is firmly rooted in fine writing and thematic elements, I was able to put that discomfort aside and enjoy the story.

My primary criticism of this story is that it is too short. We get glimpses of the dense, glittering atmosphere, but not enough to satisfy lingering questions-- what is the back room of The Hive? Who is David Bierce? What exactly happened at the end? The ending is a cliffhanger, for certain, and it left me unsatisfied, as though it ended abruptly, without warning. Of all the stories in the volume, this has lingered with me the longest, and in part because it feels so unfinished.

Pavane for a Prince of the Air::

The shortest offering is a story about death rendered in explicit, painstaking, and loving detail. The author's notes confirm my impression of this story-- that is, that it is, in most part, biographical. It is one woman's story of watching an old friend's slow, degenerative passing-- her remembrances of his final days.

Personally, the thing I enjoyed the most about this story is that even as the character of Cal is physically dying, from the reader's standpoint, he is actually coming more alive, due, in part, by the vivid descriptions of his personal belongings and the anecdotes of his caretakers. The characters here feel intensely real, lived-in, fleshed-out. This may be partially because the story is based on actual events, and for me, is partially because I know people just like this-- spiritual eclectics, their drawers spilling over with sacred tokens and incense. Aging hippies and deep thinkers.

Though this is a story about a slow, painful death, it is surprising to say that it isn't particularly depressing. It relate deaths as a transformative experience, and not as an ending, which is in its own way quietly uplifting. This story makes for a beautiful and fitting memorial.

Chip Crockett's Christmas Carol::

This is, as you may guess from the title, a retelling of the Dickens classic. The twist here is in Hand's universe, Scrooge and Bob Cratchit are one and the same. Oh, and Joey Ramone's in it, too, rendered fictitiously as Tony Maroni (which inevitably makes me think of elbow macaroni). Also interwoven into the story is the remembrance of Chip Crockett, a kiddie tv host from Tony & Brendan's childhood-- the ghost of Christmas Past in this rendition.

I'm going to be upfront and say that I've always thought that A Christmas Carol was kind of a snore, or maybe it's just that I was scarred from childhood by the remembrance of Scrooge McDuck standing over that harrowing pit of hellfire and poor Mickey Mouse weeping over his poor dead son and his wobbly, bandaged crutch. I'm just sayin'. The thing that keeps me from going into "I don't care" mode are the characters. While I found Brendan extremely hard to relate to, I watched with interest as Peter, the story's autistic Tiny Tim, began to connect to Tony, whose infectious boppiness stands in stark contrast to Brendan's morose greyness. Neither overcroweded nor poorly paced, I was satisfied enough that Hand could craft a base story which I could honestly care less about into something interesting, worth reading-- especially since this was the longest piece in the book. Most poignant in this story is the point of grace-- that strange magic that creates small miracles, that gives you just enough to get by.

The Least Trumps::

This collection of short stories ends on a note of hope with this story about Ivy Tun, a character who was excised from Hand's last novel, Mortal Love. Ivy is not a particularly interesting character in and of herself-- partially, I think, because she is so self-limiting. However, Hand does a fantastic job setting her in The Lonely House and crafting a full mythos of fictional writers around which to ensconce her tale.

Ivy is a tattoo artist who is obsessed with her past-- she creates permanent works of art, and is likewise irrevocably stuck with the ghost of a former lover. She lives alone, on an island, and does not enjoy much company. In this story, Ivy's favorite stories begin to come to life when she finds a set of mostly-blank Tarot cards in a church bazaar sale. Only two cards still retain their ink, and after rendering one of those cards as a tattoo on her thigh, her life begins to change. Echoes become flesh, new opportunities bloom when unexpected company arrives.

Again, this is a story that requires a certain suspension of disbelief, but it also showcases one of the things that Elizabeth Hand does best-- to show those tremulous, glittering places where reality and the hyper-real overlap, where beauty and magic glamour the world with unsuspected and wondrous offerings. The writing here is particularly rich-- laden with slanted late-afternoon sunlight and fragrant descriptions of garden flowers, the keening of wild birds. A gorgeous way to end this collection flush with hope, sincerity, and newly-realized possibilities.

2006 Book Log:: http://sihaya09.livejournal.com/439937.html.