Take No Prisoners, by John Grant (Willowgate Press,
1-930008-09-0-4, $13.95, 260pp, tpb) 2004.
reviewed
by Rich Horton
On the occasion of Paul Barnett's 69th birthday, I'm taking the opportunity to post this review (that first appeared in Locus for June 2004) of his collection (under his usual pseudonym, John Grant) Take No Prisoners.
John
Grant (who also writes under his real name, Paul Barnett) is not exactly
unfamiliar to me – I've read a number of his stories, such as last year's fine
"No Solace for the Soul in Digitopia". And of course his compilations
of authorial indiscretions in "Thog's Masterclass" (a regular feature
of David Langford's fanzine Ansible)
are rightly celebrated. But I have not read any of his many novels – and so
this book works very well as an introduction. Grant displays considerable
range. Included are a couple of humorous
mysteries, several contemporary horror stories, an alternate history novelette,
some SF and some fantasy and some very striking combinations of SF and fantasy.
Intriguing
were a number of stories, mainstream, straight fantasy or a heady combination
of fantasy and SF, which signal a tenuous link to each other by occasional
references to The World and by the repetition of character names like Qinefer,
Lo Chi, and Qinmeartha; as well as place names like Starveling. Otherwise these stories show little
connection, but I suspect that a greater familiarity with Grant's oeuvre, perhaps particularly his novel The World, would clarify matters
somewhat. Not to worry, though: the stories work perfectly taken by
themselves. For example, there is
"Mouse", at first reading straightforward SF about the exploration of
an anomalous world and its alien-built structure, but which turns out to also
concern the World and the Incarnate Gods who create much of it. At its center is an affecting story of two
people trapped in an alien room, one of them the title character (real name
Qinefer), a woman who has rejected contact with other people, the other a man
still recovering from his wife's departure.
Much different is "I Could have a General Be/ in the Bright King's
Arr-umm-ee", about Qinmeartha, who betrayed his evil rulers to the Bright
King, partly by seducing the evil Queen, Lo Chi. But he finds that Lo Chi's
love exacts a price. "All the Best Curses Last for a Lifetime" tells
of a created being who becomes the Soul of Evil. "Sheep" again seems
straight fantasy, with this time Qinmeartha a brutal husband to the fair Lo Chi,
until she sees a chance for revenge. "Coma" is set in our world, with
Lo Chi a young woman in a coma, but it suggests links with a larger universe as
Lo Chi's comatose mind explores a certain "chord". Finally, "How
I Slept with the Queen of China" is purely mainstream, about a somewhat
inarticulate young man trying to protect the title character (real name, again,
Qinefer) from an abusive boyfriend.
The
longest story in the book is "Snare", which tells of a briefly
successful rock band through the eyes of the drummer. He's in love with the lead singer, and
agonizes through her other affairs, dreaming that she really feels something
special for him. Much later the band is long gone, and he has married and has a
mundane job, but once yearly he makes a pilgrimage and listens to the few songs
they recorded. Song by song we learn the sad and ultimately disquieting story
behind the group.
The two
mystery stories are "A Lean and Hungry Look" and "A Case of Four
Fingers". Both are comic stories
about the rather fumbling Inspector Romford. In the first he is dragged by his
wife to a bit of "culture": an amateur production of Julius Caesar
that gets a bit too realistic. The
second and better of the pair sets the story explicitly in the village of
Cadaver-in-the Offing, which serves as the setting for all cozy detective
stories. This requires someone to recycle the characters – and who better than
the narrator (but let the story reveal that). This particular time a cadaver
goes missing before it can be recycled. It seems that the murdered man, a great
magician, has performed another feat and disappeared after death. Can Romford solve the case?
"The
Glad Who Sang a Mermaid in from the Probability Sea" is another dizzying
SF/Fantasy combination, as the "Finefolk" find a way to flee Earth
and the domination of the "Ironfolk" by learning FTL travel. But the
Ironfolk inevitably follow ... In "Wooden Horse" a young man derails
his doctoral studies by becoming obsessed with some old British WWII films
shown at a seedy local cinema. The recitation of the films involved, and the
reason they are so interesting, along with subtle details of the narrator's
life, slowly spring the surprise, which is not precisely novel, but
well-presented and queasy-making.
I am
struck here not only by the variety of these stories, and the impressive
imagination, but by the control of voice. His first-person narrators all tell
their stories in characteristic and different ways: from the exuberant, arch,
tones of the Finefolk narrator of "The Glad Who Sang a Mermaid in from the
Probability Sea", to the archaic and mannered style of Qinmeartha in
"I Could have a General Be/ in the Bright King's Arr-umm-ee", to the
simple, even naive, words of the young man in "How I Slept with the Queen
of China" – each a different voice, each perfectly matched to the story
being told. This is a book of first-rate
work, by a writer worthy of more of our attention.
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