Review: As the Curtain Falls, by Robert Chilson

As the Curtain Falls, by Robert Chilson

a review by Rich Horton

Rob Chilson  began publishing in 1968, with "The Mind Reader" in Analog. He has published a great many short stories since then, with Analog and F&SF his primary markets. He published as by "Robert Chilson" for about the first decade of his career, and mostly as "Rob Chilson" since then. This novel was his first, published by DAW in 1974. (This makes it what James Davis Nicoll likes to call "Disco Era SF.")

I know Rob personally, mostly from various conversations over the years at ConQuesT, the Kansas City convention. (Rob lives in the KC area.) And I've enjoyed a lot of his fiction, mostly in Analog -- colorful and thoughtful SF, often set far in the future. Rob has called himself one of the last writers trained by John Campbell -- and he's one of relatively few writers to have sold stories to all four of Analog's editors (Campbell, Ben Bova, Stanley Schmidt, and Trevor Quacchri.) Having said all that, I'm disappointed to say that As the Curtain Falls isn't really very good.

It's a Dying Earth novel, set a billion years in the future. The protagonist is one "Trebor, Executive-Heir of the Forestallers of Amballa, son of Sirrom, son of Leinad the Buller." He's now the leader of one faction in the small nation Amballa -- after his father's murder. He is looking for an alliance with the leader of a faction in another nation, Linllalal. And he learns to his distress that the leader of that faction has also been murdered -- and that they now propose that he marry this man's daughter, Viani. An offer which he finds insulting and distasteful -- as too does she, after a short while. But things are quickly complicated when Viani is kidnapped, either by Trebor's enemies or hers ... and honor requires him to try to rescue her.

Let's back off a bit. The attentive reader might have quickly discerned that "Trebor" is Robert, the author's name, spelled backwards. And soon enough we meet a Knarf, and a reference to an historical Imperator called Suiluj, and several more (check the names of Trebor's father and grandfather.) I can believe that a young man, writing his first novel, found this sort of thing cute -- and I could mention at least one more writer, of a similar age, who did much the same thing in this first novel. That said, while a minor irritation, it is an irritation. Perhaps worse are the opening paragraphs, a dreadful and overdone attempt at portraying some sort of exotic beauty in the dying earth landscape. I suspect the influence may have been Clark Ashton Smith, or perhaps William Hope Hodgson. (Indeed, the cover art, by Hans Ulrich Osterwalder and Ute Osterwalder, is reproduced from a German collection of stories by Hodgson.)

Anyway, the story continues, with Trebor chasing Viani and her kidnappers. There is a distinct sense of the author making things up as he goes along. He does find her, and her fetching maid, with whom he quickly has some fun ... making, eventually, both of them angry. There is an encounter with an apparently immortal man digging up "Dawn age" treasures; a battle against ogres; and another kidnapping, leading Tregor to a city ruled by a Witch Queen, also apparently immortal. He manages to escape, but he is still pursued by the Witch Queen, and a member of the sect that killed his father. He realizes he is in possession of a powerful "sigil", which might lead him to the "Kinsworth Legacy". The ladies are rescued again, and they make their way to the Legacy ... still pursued by enemies. Leading to a fairly appropriately cynical conclusion.

I complained about the prose at the beginning, but I should say it quickly settles to, well, good enough prose, if nothing special. The plot is, as I suggested, somewhat discursive and inconsistent. There are some nice action scenes, and some parts that drag, and a lot of rather implausible developments. It's sexy enough (for its era), and doesn't take itself too seriously. The "Dying Earth" milieu is a constant presence, with much discussion of the very deep time represented by past Empires, but there's not enough there that's original enough, or truly inspiring enough, to really work. In the end, at least it held my attention, but I was never thrilled. A very minor work, not really a novel that deserves remembering. But I will reiterate that Chilson, well, Got Better, and he has produced some very enjoyable work in later years.

One more criticism -- not the author's fault. The copy-editing is utterly dreadful. There are numerous annoying typos -- such as "football" for "footfall", a bit distracting in a novel set a billion years hence. Or, on the back cover, "Kingsworth Legacy" instead of "Kinsworth Legacy". And dozens more. Also there was at least one case where several lines were completely omitted. DAW was not known back then, I'd suggest, for great production values, but this seems far worse than their norm. 

I have another Chilson novel to hand -- The Shores of Kansas. It looks somewhat more promising, and I'll be giving it a try soon.