Dreams of Distant Shores

Every now and then you'll see a fantasy writer go on about how magic has to have rules - rules that the reader knows about in advance. Otherwise, the argument goes, the author can just cheat by using magic to resolve the problem, leaving the reader unsatisfied.

Well, that's one approach to magic. It assumes, among other things, that the main characters have the magic, and that they're setting out to solve a problem - neither of which is necessarily the case. This is why Patricia McKillip (and many other authors, mainly, but not exclusively, those writing before the 1970s commercial fantasy boom) can get away with magic that isn't like that.

In McKillip, the magic isn't what it needs to be to have the plot work; it's what it needs to be to have the poetry work. Usually, the protagonists aren't in control of it. They're experiencing its effects more than they're using its effects. They're not necessarily solving a problem, either, so much as coming to a realization, and for this, magic that doesn't have fixed boundaries works perfectly fine.

I will say that this approach tends to work better for me at shorter lengths. I didn't enjoy the novella in this volume (Something Rich and Strange) as much as the shorter pieces, and I think it was because the characters didn't have a clear goal and clear steps to take in order to strive towards it. I missed that structuring element, as I hadn't with the shorter stories. Still, Something Rich and Strange did give me my favourite of many fine moments in the collection: "I don't know how to bargain for Jonah. I don't know how to say, you can have this for him, but not this. I don't know what he's not worth because right now he's costing me everything." And there you have the book in a nutshell, and the reason that rules and limitations on the magic would simply be wrong: for the stories to be emotionally all-in, for the characters to reach the realizations they reach, the magic has to be unrestrained, wild, not circumscribed or calculated.

The opening story, "Weird," does something wonderful with the in medius res approach: a couple are forted up in a bathroom (a nice one), with supplies consisting of a luxurious picnic, while outside terrible noises imply that something is dreadfully wrong. Their conversation consists of the man asking the woman what's the weirdest thing that's ever happened to her - and she doesn't lead with "this". If that isn't guaranteed to keep you reading, I don't know what's wrong with you.

"Mer" is a prime example of magic without rules or restraints. A nameless witch, apparently immortal or very long-lived, transforms into various shapes as the story requires. It isn't the witch's story, though, but the story of ordinary people who encounter her and are vexed and challenged and changed by the experience.

"The Gorgon in the Cupboard" is set among Victorian artists and their models, and the magic is more a way of pushing events along and creating reflection on them than it is the core of the story. The core of the story is a woman who's been treated badly, and is now being treated kindly; who was the model for Persephone, and is now the model for Medusa. Alongside that runs a theme of the artist and his love for a "goddess," the wife of his mentor, and how he comes to see her, and his own model, as human. It's intricate and beautiful and draws power from myths while, at the same time, questioning a mythological view of the world.

"Which Witch" is a music/magic story, which for me are hard to pull off, partly because it's too easy to lean on poetic descriptions that don't really convey the experience of listening to music, and then having the magic arbitrarily happen while the audience is distracted. That's not a trap McKillip falls into (she's too experienced for that). In this case, the protagonist does have magic, but she doesn't know exactly what it can do, and when it activates she still has to exercise love and courage to battle on behalf of her familiar.

"Edith and Henry Go Motoring" is another very English period piece (like "Gorgon"), with none of the horrible wrong notes that American writers so often hit when they attempt to write about English people in England. It involves a psychological journey for the main characters in the guise of a physical journey.

"Alien" is, I suppose, technically SF, but only because the narrator's grandmother has seen aliens rather than Fae. Or has she? The story is about the response of a family to a beloved elder's unlikely claim of an experience, and the relationships are where the emphasis lies.

Something Rich and Strange I've already said a little about. It's full of the magic of the sea, with a sometimes heavy-handed ecological message (still, doesn't it need to be?). The main characters spend most of the time wandering lost and confused (literally or figuratively), ill-equipped to counter the moves of ocean gods. Though I felt it was overlong, it still had power and beauty.

McKillip closes with a reflection on "Writing High Fantasy," a kind of manifesto in which she declares that simply tromping through the tropes is not enough - that the challenge she chooses is to take the trappings of high fantasy and twist them just enough to be interesting. She offers examples from her novels.

In an afterword, Peter S. Beagle celebrates McKillip's genius, from his perspective as someone who knows her personally and writes in the same genre. He claims, I'm sure genuinely, to be jealous, and that he couldn't write some of these stories as well as she has done (he goes through personal reactions to each one of them). It's an enjoyable close to the book.

Overall, this is a fine collection of a rare type of story, the mythopoeic kind of fantasy that evokes wonder and shows us complex human people undergoing realizations about themselves that shake them to the core of their identities.

Lyrical and haunting as her best works. Mer was charming and whimiscal and thoroughly enjoyable. The Gorgon in the Cupboard took things a notch further and also had more depth. Something Rich and Strange was flat-out stunning. Haunting, sad, evocative... It is a version of Tam Lin, but I kept setting it aside just to make it last longer. In quiet, simple, language, Ms. McKillip draws the reader deeply into this foggy coastal dreamscape; with very few words'' making you feel you know the characters. Megan and Jonah seem like people I have met, even though their particular situations are otherworldly. And to reasonably tie the pain of humans and fae to the plight of the planet itself seems more than difficult, but it flowed quite naturally here.

All I can say is buy this as quickly as you can in hardcover. You NEED this book.

Patricia McKillip astounds me. Her second book of 2016 is thrilling and sweet, enchanting and mad. If the fae wrote stories for humans to read, you can imagine she would be one of them.

Do not miss this one.

This is a compilation of short stories, which was a refreshing pace to read for me. I could easily pick it up in the middle of my hectic day, read a quick fantasy, and get back to work after I had finished the story. The stories are the quintessential escape for the lunch hour. Warning side effect of these stories: I did find myself daydreaming for most of the day after reading just small pieces. These are the types of fantasies that open you to the fae and just don't let go immediately. I felt like I had become part of the wind and words, floating around waiting to be reality.

No two stories focused on the same characters or places, or time for that matter, but there were some common themes that could tie all the stories together. Pure fantasy and fae mysticism. We meet witches, gorgons, sea deities, and mermaids. Humans and imagination blend until you aren't sure which are there in front of you. The words are lyrics that just sweep you away in the siren's song. Overall, most of the stories seem to have some pull to the sea. I have not read that many sea-faring fantasies in my day, but these ones would be sure to compete with the best.

My favorite of the collection was "Gorgon in the Cupboard." I already want to go back and re-read that story. McKillip's writing just swept me away into such a vivid world of words come to life. I was so unaware that the ending had even happened, though on reflection it made perfect sense. Many of the others had that seem ethereal hold over me, but others just never seemed to capture me. I will easily give this collection 4 stars. The novella being my least enjoyed story keeps it from getting all the stars; since it was the longest story in the collection, I was hoping for the most interaction there. I will still be recommending this to any and all people with imagination.

Journey through time and place in this collection of short pieces by Patricia A. McKillip. There are 5 short stories, 2 novellas, and a nonfiction piece. All of which are excellent.

I think my two favorite pieces were the first story in the collection, "Weird" and another piece entitled "The Gorgon in the Cupboard."
"Weird" keeps you guessing as to what's going on. "The Gorgon in the Cupboard" is a story about artists, models, and muses.

All the stories struck me as treasures, though. I loved her use of language. Even in the novella "Something Rich and Strange," the language sets the tone. You can feel the distraction of the characters.

The nonfiction piece was about writing high fantasy. I like the idea that she puts across that she uses different tropes, but twists them enough to make them something different and new. The afterword was written by Peter S. Beagle, another really good writer, who respects Patricia McKillip's crafting of stories.

This book is appropriate for people who enjoy fantasy. There are a variety of settings and themes to enjoy. And if you like the behind the scenes look at things, the essay and the afterword are very interesting. All in all, I give this book 5 stars for excellence in craftsmanship.

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.

This review also appears at Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/review/R2WPBVMY3VN79E/ref=cm_cr_rdp_perm?ie=UTF8&ASIN=B01A94JIFE

And Goodreads.com https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1556989816

Patricia A. McKillip's writing is in top form, as always. Her stories are otherwordly, and always transport me to the world her characters live in. I especially enjoyed the essay on writing, and the letter from Peter S. Beagle.

In Dreams of Distant Shores Patricia McKillip weaves delicate and often groundbreaking detail into the tales. I wanted to highlight some of the stories I particularly loved, and the ones I felt the most moved by.

“Weird” opens the collection and left me wanting more of it in the best ways. The couple on the bathroom floor telling each other weirder and weirder stories while eating fancy cheeses is an interesting image. It becomes a much more intriguing idea when the noises outside the walls of the small room intermittently interrupt their reprieve. I wanted to know so much more about the world in which these people exist, but savoured the atmosphere in the short glimpse of their lives. Perhaps it is close to the end of their experience as the banging at the door becomes more frantic. McKillip leaves us not knowing, and maybe that’s for the best.

The next story that was a stand-out for me was The Gorgon in the Cupboard. I found a story about people, even artists, existing without seeing or imagining others complexly. Their models are too often only allowed to be beautiful faces in their worlds rather than fully realized people. I liked the commentary of this tale, and also found many of the characters deeply sympathetic and relatable.

Finally, I wanted to point out the story “Which Witch”. It’s fun, with a world behind it I very much want to explore further. I loved the idea of the witch-y rock group intermingling music and magic. It was a satisfying tale from start to finish.

These three were my stand-outs from this collection. Otherwise, I enjoyed the high quality of the other stories and essays in Dreams of Distant Shores.