Peace by Gene Wolfe - Fantasy (Gollancz) - SF masterworks reprint.
01/12/2002 . Source: Eamonn Murphy 
Pub: Gollancz. 264 page paperback. Price: £ 6.99 (UK). ISBN 0-575-07376-4. Buy from Amazon US - Buy from Amazon UK
nb: US titles may only be available from Amazon US, and UK titles from Amazon UK. Check out website: www.orionbooks.co.uk
This is an excellent novel but it's
not fantastic. It is a mainstream novel, marketed as a fantasy because
Wolfe is a fantasy writer but really it is no more of the genre than
'Picture This', Joseph Heller's quirky book about Rembrandt. Perhaps
Heller's book should be reclassified as fantasy?
The narrator is Alden Dennis Weer, an old man looking back on his
life and sometimes (this is the only fantasy element) re-entering
it. Remembering himself as a middle-aged man visiting the Doctor
he suddenly speaks to the Doctor as an old man, asking advice on
the ailments that will plague him in the Doctor's future.
 Such
incidents are fantasy blips though, in a generally mainstream narrative
of small-town America, of interesting neighbours and dotty relatives.
There are stories
within stories. Weer listens to one of his Aunt's suitors telling a tale then
goes to bed to read, whereupon the story he reads is narrated. Despite some skipping
about the main path of the book is linear, from past to future. It is divided
into sections each with a main character. The first is about the narrator,
Weer himself, now a very rich old man.
The second is about Olivia.
Weer is from a wealthy background, probably the chief family in the small town.
While his parents travel in Europe his Aunt Olivia raises him. She is beautiful,
unmarried, financially independent and a dabbler in all the arts. Her various
suitors are described and her pursuit of an antique ornamental Chinese egg.
Next is the Alchemist. The story is told by one of Olivia's suitors and
concerns his first employer, a pharmacist who used potions to make freaks. Then
follows Gold, about an old Jewish antiquarian bookseller who actually manufactures
the books he sells, making history. Last is The President, about Weer himself
as head of the local factory.
Within this framework there is much meandering.
The book might well be titled 'I Digress'. Moreover, in outlining the plot one
cannot impart the flavour. The difference is akin to that between eating a delicious
steak and listening to someone describe a dead cow. Wolfe's elegant prose
is a treat. The novel is without melodrama. The pace is steady, sedate, solid,
slightly melancholy, dare I say peaceful. Like Bradbury and Stephen King, too,
at his best, Wolfe captures the atmosphere of small-town America. But there are
no horrors lurking in the background.
What is lurking in the background?
Scan the Internet and you will find much discussion about Christian symbols, hidden
meanings and so on. I glanced at these but did not use them to review it. Best
to admit there is that in high literature which escapes my essentially pedestrian
mind. This is a good book. It might even be great and I thoroughly enjoyed it
even though I can't say why.
Eamon Murphy 
|
