The Etched City
So, the past month I've been reading The Etched City by K. J Bishop for a book club. I didn't get around to posting my review in the thread, so it seems I'll be writing it down here for the time-being.
The first thing that struck me about the book once I had finished it is that it could've been so good. Really, that's the thing that stands out to me most. The Etched City is a class example of what a talented writer but first-time author often does wrong.
While the style is slightly more purple than I normally prefer I am actually quite drawn in by the way Bishop works with words. The book has something fantastical about it and her wordplay capitalizes and expounds on that. There is something special in names and words like The Copper Country and Ashamoil. It paints vivid images of sand deserts in hues of copper green and red. Huge, looming cities driven by steam, slaves and magic. At the same time, Bishop fails to paint a cohesive picture for me. At the outset, I see things very clearly, the steampunkish city, 19th century in fashion and style. I really do have it before my inner eye and suddenly she mention something like rubber soles and everything fucking falls apart.
Things like this makes me want to stop reading and I quite honestly would've if it weren't for the fact I was reading it for a purpose. The main-reason for that however wouldn't have been the often-times jarring and clashing imagery, but the fact that this book doesn't have a story-line.
I have the distinct impression that Bishop had a wonderful world to play with, but no stories to tell about it. Writing and story-telling are two distinctly different things that should and needs to be combined. Bishop's mistake lay in her characterization and choice of timing/exposition. The premise and setting of the book is quite good, but both of the main characters, Raule and Gwynn, are extremely passive. This is a book about The After. After the war, after the revolution etc. I don't mind a slow-moving plot, but it has to be a plot.
The characters are broken people, there is nothing that really pushes them to action. They try to survive and that's pretty much it. Bishop's biggest mistake is her failure to introduce change and something to spur these characters to action. Indeed, the latter part of the book is the best because the notion of change and action is introduced in Gwynn's life by his lover/muse (whose name I've actually forgotten, I think it was Beth, so I'll go with that).
Other than that, this book is very much a slice-of-life of sorts. People come and go, seemingly at random in a way that's actually very realistic, but not very conductive to telling a good story. The way Raule glides away and disappears is extremely frustrating as Raule is needed to pair Gwynn to create a dynamic that can drive the story somewhere, either by character interaction or external plot elements.
Another thing about the book that was incredibly disorientating and jarring was the fact that either Bishop was trying to include too much in the book, or just couldn't plain decide what she wanted the book to be. She creates so many threads that she never ever picks up again. One long passage details a conversation with Gwynn and three men who all have had a dream/heard-a-story/something about a red hair they all need for something, and Gwynn has happened to find a red tuft of somebody's hair.
The purpose of the exchange for each man is to make Gwynn give them the hair. It comes completely at random, reads like a passage from The State by Plato or any other Greek book about philosophy and does absolutely nothing but consume a couple of thousand words. It does nothing for neither characterization nor plot. Once the scene is over, it's as if it never happened and hangs inside the book like a little bubble in a vaacum.
Like previously stated, despite the books many weaknesses and faults, there are several separate elements that I appreciate. While the book has been described as post-apocalyptic I'd like to go a step further and say that this is a book where the fabric of reality is obviously fraying at the edges, a concept I've only encountered in a positive fashion once before so far in a webcomic by Sandra Fuhr called 5ideways.
However, when it comes down to it, for all it's interesting philosophies, world, characters and writing, nothing ever really happened in this book and as such I never felt the drive and need to pick the book back up once I had put it down. For all the tightness of the writing style, the fantastical interesting world she was painting, she failed to hook me and that in and of itself, makes the book a failure.
The first thing that struck me about the book once I had finished it is that it could've been so good. Really, that's the thing that stands out to me most. The Etched City is a class example of what a talented writer but first-time author often does wrong.
While the style is slightly more purple than I normally prefer I am actually quite drawn in by the way Bishop works with words. The book has something fantastical about it and her wordplay capitalizes and expounds on that. There is something special in names and words like The Copper Country and Ashamoil. It paints vivid images of sand deserts in hues of copper green and red. Huge, looming cities driven by steam, slaves and magic. At the same time, Bishop fails to paint a cohesive picture for me. At the outset, I see things very clearly, the steampunkish city, 19th century in fashion and style. I really do have it before my inner eye and suddenly she mention something like rubber soles and everything fucking falls apart.
Things like this makes me want to stop reading and I quite honestly would've if it weren't for the fact I was reading it for a purpose. The main-reason for that however wouldn't have been the often-times jarring and clashing imagery, but the fact that this book doesn't have a story-line.
I have the distinct impression that Bishop had a wonderful world to play with, but no stories to tell about it. Writing and story-telling are two distinctly different things that should and needs to be combined. Bishop's mistake lay in her characterization and choice of timing/exposition. The premise and setting of the book is quite good, but both of the main characters, Raule and Gwynn, are extremely passive. This is a book about The After. After the war, after the revolution etc. I don't mind a slow-moving plot, but it has to be a plot.
The characters are broken people, there is nothing that really pushes them to action. They try to survive and that's pretty much it. Bishop's biggest mistake is her failure to introduce change and something to spur these characters to action. Indeed, the latter part of the book is the best because the notion of change and action is introduced in Gwynn's life by his lover/muse (whose name I've actually forgotten, I think it was Beth, so I'll go with that).
Other than that, this book is very much a slice-of-life of sorts. People come and go, seemingly at random in a way that's actually very realistic, but not very conductive to telling a good story. The way Raule glides away and disappears is extremely frustrating as Raule is needed to pair Gwynn to create a dynamic that can drive the story somewhere, either by character interaction or external plot elements.
Another thing about the book that was incredibly disorientating and jarring was the fact that either Bishop was trying to include too much in the book, or just couldn't plain decide what she wanted the book to be. She creates so many threads that she never ever picks up again. One long passage details a conversation with Gwynn and three men who all have had a dream/heard-a-story/something about a red hair they all need for something, and Gwynn has happened to find a red tuft of somebody's hair.
The purpose of the exchange for each man is to make Gwynn give them the hair. It comes completely at random, reads like a passage from The State by Plato or any other Greek book about philosophy and does absolutely nothing but consume a couple of thousand words. It does nothing for neither characterization nor plot. Once the scene is over, it's as if it never happened and hangs inside the book like a little bubble in a vaacum.
Like previously stated, despite the books many weaknesses and faults, there are several separate elements that I appreciate. While the book has been described as post-apocalyptic I'd like to go a step further and say that this is a book where the fabric of reality is obviously fraying at the edges, a concept I've only encountered in a positive fashion once before so far in a webcomic by Sandra Fuhr called 5ideways.
However, when it comes down to it, for all it's interesting philosophies, world, characters and writing, nothing ever really happened in this book and as such I never felt the drive and need to pick the book back up once I had put it down. For all the tightness of the writing style, the fantastical interesting world she was painting, she failed to hook me and that in and of itself, makes the book a failure.
Labels: reviews
posted by M | 6:18 pm
4 Comments:
Yay for book reviews!
Excellent job on the synopsis and your personal feelings about this novel. I didn't join the club that month, and this review helps me reconcile that choice--I probably wouldn't have liked it either. I'm a fan of more dynamic stories than this seems to be.
Actually, rubber-soled shoes were invented in the late 19th century. You are of course entitled to all your other criticisms, though I would add that the condition of fraying reality which you noticed, and which I did intend, was contrived partly through little hints of anachronism (only not the shoes).
And yes, it's about the unplotty 'After'. I'm sorry you didn't like it, and I acknowledge that it contains flaws that will cripple it for some, no doubt many, readers, but I make no apology for my theme or for writing slice-of-life in a fantastical setting. Had I been given my own way I would have ditched all that embarrassing guff on the cover and placed a warning there instead: A digressive, plotless book about nobodies who achieve nothing. Contains almost as much nada as real life.
Yours sincerely,
Kirsten (KJ) Bishop
Hi Kirsten,
I'm actually rather surprised and thrilled to receive a personal response on my review. I'll retract my statement on the rubber soles and instead say that it's good to hear that you've done your research.
I don't expect you to apologize. Now that you've read the review you can either take it to heart, or decide that the criticism is unwarranted and leave it behind. I rather enjoyed the slice-of-lifeness of the book, but even when writing in that particular style it doesn't mean you can't have a more directed plotline (or just plain have one), or that you can't choose characters who compliment each other in such a way to drive the story somewhere, or allow them to have more interactions, random or intentional.
I've no idea if you'll be returning to read this, but I am curious on your decision to focus so much on Gwynn and leave Raule behind. What motivated it?
Additionally, I really rather enjoyed your preferred choice of subtitle, let's hope you'll have your way with the next book, aye?
Hi,
No worries about the rubber shoes, and I'm glad we can have a dialogue - and as for the person on Megatokyo who thinks you hurt my feelings, well, lol, no. It's simply a matter of wanting to defend one's work.
That I didn't give more time to Raule is my own biggest criticism of how I wrote the book. I put it down partly to inexperience - and none of my editors complained, so while I knew there was an imbalance I didn't realise it was that bad.
It also has to do with the way I write. I seem to tune into characters as if they were on radio stations. Gwynn's signal was very loud and clear; Raule's started off clear but grew faint; I had trouble 'picking it up', and didn't have the skills to fake it.
I try not to take criticism to heart, but I do take it to mind. I mull quite a bit over negative comments, because you want to do better next time - but then you come to the odd and vexing question of what "better" is.
Virginia Woolf wrote wondrously plotless books - yet things happen, characters develop, and you finish with a sense of a story having been told. Of course, Woolf was a genius; I'd be an idiot to imagine I have the mastery of touch to make the unplotty narrative work as she did. Still, you can only try.
That said, I've played a lot with style; in what I'm writing now I'm trying to keep structure and substance more in mind. We'll see what happens, though. Fantasy might not really be my ideal genre, but I'm not ready to leave it behind.
On choosing characters - I rather wish I could. But I'm one of those writers who relies a lot on the subconscious. My characters choose themselves and interact with all the unplannedness of real people. I'm not sure that I'll ever overcome this, or that I even want to. I know it produces faults in my work, but I also think it contributes to whatever merit my writing may have. Sometimes you risk throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
Well, that was a long comment! And yes, it is me. In case you want to check -
email: mail@kjbishop.net
web: www.kjbishop.net
Post a Comment
<< Home