News Flashing | A Return to Ambergris

You all have Ecstatic Days bookmarked, right?

Trip into this, pot-heads.

Thoughtful and provocative, Jeff Vandermeer's blog has been a bastion of fascination for me for as long as I've followed the speculative scene - such as it is. And from time to time, the gentleman even clues us in on what we've got to look forward to in the months and years to come.

Because he writes the books too, you know. Finch, anyone? Stunning stuff. Worthy of all the superlatives I - amongst many others - bestowed upon it what feels to me uncountable aeons ago.

Anyway.

Finch was the third novel in the Ambergris cycle - after City of Saints and Madmen and Shriek: An Afterword - and it also purported to be the last feature-length narrative set in Vandermeer's singular, spore-ridden setting. Much to my upturned bottom lip, I might add.

Well, it gives me great pleasure to inform you lovely lot - should you have missed the announcement on Ecstatic Days a few days ago - that my lower lip trembles no more: there's to be another Ambergris novel, after all. Untitled, as far as we mere mortals know, and a long ways off as yet - Jeff says in the comments that he's "got two or three [other] novels to write first" - still, it was enough to make me a moderately happy chappy this New Year. A turn-up for the books, I'm telling you!

Be warned, going forward: spoilers regarding the events of Finch abound. But to whet your appetites alongside mine, here's the pitch, in full:

Five years after Finch...

Stark lives on... inside his brother Bosun’s head. In the wake of the chaos of the Lady in Blue’s attack, Bosun’s thugs have annexed the Spit and a large section of territory near it, bolstered by captured gray cap weapons.

The gray caps have retreated to the HFZ, launching periodic attacks. Their main enemies internally are Partials immune to their spores—driven out by the rebels and rejected by the gray caps. Their only chance is to reclaim the HFZ, or part of it.

Sintra has risen through the ranks and has a hand in the decision-making of the native tribes enclave in the religious quarter, which has spread beyond, to the edge of Bosun’s territory.

The rest of the city is controlled by the Lady in Blue, whose transformed rebels exist in uneasy alliance with "pures" – those who did not come through the gate. Both factions are riven through with the ghost of Hoegbotton-Frankwrithe rivalries. The remnants of the Nimblytod and Dogghe tribes that control the religious quarter have been told to assimilate with the rebel forces for the common good. They’re having none of it, but have held back waiting for the Lady in Blue to die and the rebels to implode.

Rumor has it that John Finch is blind now, victim of a wasting disease that has him confined to a wheelchair in a room somewhere in Rathven’s ever-growing underground tunnels. And Rathven? Who knows. There are more rumors about her now than there once were about the Lady in Blue. But the Photographer has been sighted recently, back in town.

Out in the bay: the ruins of the two towers, reduced by fire following the rebel attack. And something still hidden there.

Out in the bay: a single boat, late at night. A man, Bliss, who is not a man. More doors opening. All over the city.

What is coming out of them?

Bliss: "It’s a very long game, Sintra. Longer than you or anyone could possibly imagine…so why don’t you put the gun down, hmm?"

Whatever this is, it's due sometime in 2013 or 2014. The far-flung future, right?

Well. It can't come soon enough.

Book Review: Finch by Jeff Vandermeer

Buy this book from

Amazon.co.uk / Amazon.com

IndieBound / The Book Depository

"Tasked with solving an impossible double murder, detective John Finch searches for the truth among the rubble of the once-mighty city of Ambergris. Under the rule of the mysterious gray caps, Ambergris is falling into anarchy. The remnants of a rebel force are demoralised and dispersed, their leader, the Lady in Blue, not seen for months. Partials - human traitors transformed by the gray caps - walk the streets brutalising the city's inhabitants. Finch's partner Wyte, stricken with a fungal disease, is literally disintegrating. And strange forces are marshaling themselves against detective Finch even as he pursues his one clue: the elusive spymaster Ethan Bliss. How much time does Finch have before time itself runs out?"

***

At long last: Finch. Nearly a year since its publication in the States, the Locus nominee has come to bookstores closer to home, courtesy of stellar new Atlantic Books imprint Corvus. I don't often dwell on something so tertiary as cover art in my reviews, but the original Underland Press edition came adorned with a truly remarkable piece of work by John Coulthart at once spectacular and stark - a startling and indeed award-winning composition that perfectly captured the fungal wonders of the city of Ambergris a century after the events of Shriek: An Afterword. A new edition means a new cover, of course, and it gives me great pleasure to say the new art nearly equals the darkly fantastic charm of the old. Corvus have traded Finch's grimy noir looks for a hallucinatory fusion of colour that brings David Mitchell's Cloud Atlas to mind, with fiery organic pinks set against the faded blues of the industry the grey caps have overpowered. The gorgeous cover is but the first thing about Finch that will take your breath away; far, far from the last.

Six years ago, the gray caps swallowed an Ambergris already decimated by decades of petty civil strife. With the city weakened and its people hopelessly divided, the mushroom monstrosities that had colonised the cave systems beneath the great state rose up to rule over the citizens. Now, those who survived through the unspeakable horrors of The Rising live in a state of perpetual paranoia: there is something for them to fear around every corner, some terrible consequence of the fungal invasion on every street, every building, every person.

Ambergris has become a vibrant city of red, green and gold; purplish hues and dirty spatters of all the lurid shades of an artist's palette have infiltrated its every aspect in spore form. Certainly it's a more colourful locale than one might recall from City of Saints and Madmen, but for all that the urban landscape has been enlivened as a perverse by-product of the grey caps' attack, The Rising has also leeched the life from the once bustling metropolis of Ambergris. The ruined city detectives Finch and Wyte once swore to protect no longer takes much notice of a missing person, another moldering body. There is little in the way of law left for them to uphold, and no order but that which the grey caps impose for their own ominous purpose.

Finch has as its primary narrative thrust the titular detective's investigation into two dead bodies in a seedy apartment: a man and half of a dismembered mushroom who have looked mortality in the eye and found themselves unequal to its awful answer. It's not long, however, before Finch finds out that there is a much greater mystery afoot, and his subsequent discoveries soon come to threaten everything he holds dear. His lover and his life, his friends and his family are all at stake; and of course, his city, Ambergris entire.

As per usual, World Fantasy Award-winner Jeff Vandermeer spins a terrific yarn. There's a sense of inevitability to everything Finch sees, says and does, an inexorable forward motion that sustains the narrative all the way through to its brilliant cosmic climax. Few characters beyond the protagonist and his increasingly fungal father-figure Wyte are explored to any great extent, but many of those who appear only occasionally are able nevertheless to haunt the text in an extraordinary sense. Rathven, the enigmatic photographer, Heretic and one particularly sickening partial often lurk between the lines - even in their absence.

Singularly the most memorable character of Finch, however, is Ambergris itself. While I found the city struggling to establish a clear identity in Vandermeer's previous fiction, it is much changed in Finch, and the change has rendered it a spectacular marvel of wonder and horror.

Some readers will be disoriented by Vandermeer's sparse, clipped prose, but once they're able to acclimatise to its unusual, article-less rhythm and flow, Finch becomes an unforgettable experience akin to a darkly lucid dream. As one abrupt sentence follows another you come to realise that the curious, not quite stream-of-consciousness narration represents the disconnection between detective Finch and his city, the hard line he has drawn between his past and the terrible reality of the present. Furthermore, it emphasizes the isolation of Ambergris itself from the world surrounding it.

Vandermeer's distinctive storytelling device will surely discourage many attempts to summit the great narrative heights Finch eventually scales, but this is a novel made greater by the effort you must expend to fully appreciate it. It is assuredly the best of the three tales of Ambergris Vandermeer has told to date - high praise in itself - and despite a few unfortunate call-backs to the events of Shriek: An Afterword, this twisting hallucinatory fusion of tropes and traits stands well enough on its own that readers interested in any species of great genre fiction will find much about Finch to love.

***

Finch

by Jeff Vandermeer

August 2010, Corvus

Buy this book from
Amazon.co.uk / Amazon.com
IndieBound / The Book Depository

Recommended and Related Reading

 

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbour's Hugo

I've been quiet on the award nominations and shortlists that have been such a hot topic across the blogosphere these past few weeks. It's not that I haven't read any of the contenders, but I haven't read all of them, and short of reposting a list of the nominees, without that base of knowledge I don't know I'd be doing anyone any good by expressing an uninformed opinion.

That said, an awards-related post that went up on Jeff Vandermeer's blog Ecstatic Days yesterday struck me as somewhat telling. Full the whole kit and caboodle, go here. But this is the part that interests me:

"...a few people expressed condolences that Finch wasn’t on the Hugo finalist list. That’s very kind, but not only do I not expect to be on any list, ever, I do not lobby for awards (why would you want something you can influence like that?), and I do not set my goals for success around them, although this isn’t meant as a repudiation of awards. Still, if you need proof of how in the long-term awards don’t always matter much, and I’ve been up for my share of them, City of Saints didn’t win anything it was up for and is in print and remembered far more than many other award-winning books of the period. It’s nice to be up for an award, but it shouldn’t be an expectation (indeed, my fiction has never been up for a Hugo and I’m doing just fine). I am thrilled to be up for a Nebula, would’ve been thrilled for a Hugo or anything else, but not getting something that’s a perk is like crying about not having chocolate sprinkles on your ice cream. And being too wrapped up in stuff like that is detrimental to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The work is the important thing, and making the work as good as humanly possible is the goal."

Now correct me if I'm wrong here, but that sure sounds like sour grapes to me. For the sake of coherence, let's leave to one side the somewhat dubious argument that City of Saints and Madmen is "remembered more than many other award-winning books of the period." Not to be reductive, but Vandermeer's essentially saying that the only reason Finch isn't on the shortlist is because he didn't lobby for it to be. Now I loved Vandermeer's last Ambergris novel - read the full review here to see just how much - and in my opinion, it's certainly more deserving of a place amongst the finalists than the likes of Cherie Priest's Boneshaker, which was fun, don't misunderstand me, in a pulpy, steampunk Stephen King sort of way, but hardly revelatory in the mode of Finch - nor The Windup Girl and The City and The City; which is to say, the other best novel candidates I've read.

But the notion that bother me is that had Vandermeer tried to get Finch on the list, it would be on the list. And I ask you, internet: is that true? Are the Hugos really so easily swayed? Or is Vandermeer just miffed about the oversight?

>>> EDIT TO REFLECT THAT: Popular opinion has deemed this post accusatory, and were it not for the likelihood that some readers would accuse me of backpedalling, I'd gladly reword anything that suggests I genuinely believe Jeff is being elitist or disingenuous. That was not the plan at all. I was, of course, stirring the pot a bit, but I'd meant for the spillage to fall on the Hugos; to engender discussion about how, despite their perceived importance, they're basically the American Idol equivalent of more considered awards, awards less about how thoroughly one author has pimped their qualifying novel over the others and more about objective merit. Bottom line, though, is - as one anonymous commenter observed - I "failed miserably" at that. Apologies to Jeff if I've caused any offense, and indeed I'd extend my regrets to anyone who took what I'd intended to be interesting questions as out-and-out insults. I do not mean to be the Daily Mirror.

Book Review: Finch by Jeff Vandermeer

[Buy this book from

Amazon in the US]

"Tasked with solving an impossible double murder, detective John Finch searches for the truth among the rubble of the once-mighty city of Ambergris. Under the rule of the mysterious gray caps, Ambergris is falling into anarchy. The remnants of a rebel force are demoralised and dispersed, their leader, the Lady in Blue, not seen for months. Partials - human traitors transformed by the gray caps - walk the streets brutalising the city's inhabitants. Finch's partner Wyte, stricken with a fungal disease, is literally disintegrating. And strange forces are marshaling themselves against detective Finch even as he pursues his one clue: the elusive spymaster Ethan Bliss. How much time does Finch have before time itself runs out?"

***

The first thing about Finch that will strike you - the first touch of the blackness ahead that will leave you staggered - is the heartbreakingly beautiful cover art by John Coulthart. At once spectacular and grimy, stark and yet colourful, his startling composition perfectly captures the contrasting aspects of the city of Ambergris a century after the events of Shriek: An Afterword. And Coulthart's incredible illustration is but the first thing to take your breath away; far, far from the last.

Six years before the events chronicled in Finch, the gray caps swallowed an Ambergris already decimated by decades of petty civil strife. With the city weakened and its people hopelessly divided, the mushroom monstrosities that had colonised the cave systems beneath the great hallucinatory state rose up to rule over the citizens. Now, those who survived through the unspeakable horrors of The Rising live in a state of perpetual paranoia: there is something for them to fear around every corner, some terrible consequence of the fungal invasion on every street, every building, every person.

Ambergris has become a vibrant city of red, green and gold; purplish hues and dirty spatters of all the lurid shades of an artist's palette have infiltrated its every aspect in spore form. Certainly it is a more colourful locale than one might recall from City of Saints and Madmen, but for all that the urban landscape has been enlivened as a perverse by-product of the grey cap's attack, The Rising has also leeched the life from the once bustling metropolis of Ambergris. The ruined city detectives Finch and Wyte once swore to protect no longer takes much notice of a missing person, another moldering body. There is little in the way of law left for them to uphold, and no order but that which the grey caps impose for their own ominous purpose.

Finch has as its primary narrative thrust the titular detective's investigation into two dead bodies in a seedy apartment: a man and half of a dismembered mushroom who have looked mortality in the eye and found themselves unequal to its awful answer. It's not long, however, before Finch finds out that there is a much greater mystery afoot, and his subsequent discoveries soon come to threaten everything he holds dear. His lover and his life, his friends and his family are all at stake; and of course, his city, Ambergris entire.

As per usual, World Fantasy Award-winner Jeff Vandermeer spins a terrific yarn. There's a sense of inevitability to everything Finch sees, says and does, an inexorable forward motion that sustains the narrative all the way through to its brilliant cosmic climax. Few characters beyond the protagonist and his increasingly fungal father-figure Wyte are explored to any great extent, but many of those who appear only occasionally are able nevertheless to haunt the text in an extraordinary sense. Rathven, the enigmatic photographer, Heretic and one particularly sickening partial often lurk between the lines - even in their absence.

Singularly the most memorable character of Finch, however, is Ambergris itself. While I found the city struggling to establish a clear identity in Vandermeer's previous fiction, it is much changed in Finch, and the change has rendered it a spectacular marvel of wonder and horror.

Some readers will be disoriented by Vandermeer's sparse, clipped prose, but once they're able to acclimatise to its unusual, article-less rhythm and flow, Finch becomes an unforgettable experience akin to a darkly lucid dream. As one abrupt sentence follows another you come to realise that the curious, not quite stream-of-consciousness narration represents the disconnection between detective Finch and his city, the hard line he has drawn between his past and the terrible reality of the present. Furthermore, it emphasizes the isolation of Ambergris itself from the world surrounding it.

Vandermeer's distinctive storytelling device will surely discourage many attempts to summit the great narrative heights Finch eventually scales, but this is a novel made greater by the effort you must expend to fully appreciate it. It is assuredly the best of the three tales of Ambergris Vandermeer has told to date - high praise in itself - and despite a few unfortunate call-backs to the events of Shriek: An Afterword, this twisting hallucinatory fusion of tropes and traits stands well enough on its own that readers interested in any species of great genre fiction will find much about Finch to love.

***

Finch

by Jeff Vandermeer

November 2009, Underland Press: Oregon.

[Buy this book from
Amazon in the US]

Recommended and Related Reading