The City Beyond Play by Philip José Farmer and Danny Adams

Being the early labors of Philip José Farmer and the later workings of his grand-nephew, Danny Adams, novella The City Beyond Play is a pristine piece of science fantasy. The fantasy half revolves around a secluded cut of California re-created to represent a pre-17th-century Europe, known to all its accepted inhabitants as Scadia, while the science half represents the hand that makes the dragons and haunted castles within possible. It also allows for better living standards, giving lords, ladies, and lamenting bards such things as proper plumbing—the best of both worlds being the motive.

Wilson Gore, misheard often as Will Son of Gore, is a man on the run from the law. He seeks both solitude and social stature in the throwback community, knowing that the odds are well against him on the Outside. The time period is the near-future, he knows a fair amount of the archaic language, and he hopes to slide by undetected within Scadia’s borders. That is, if he isn’t killed first by not following the Rules. Within moments, Gore involuntarily becomes Sir Bobaunce’s stableboy and soon after that meets the desirably unattainable woman—Lady Melisounde. Cue wide eyes. A juggling act then ensues: there’s a climb of Scadia’s social ladder, an escape from a Federal Agent, a rescue of a kidnapped maiden, and enough duels, duels, duels to put T.H. White’s The Once and Future King on edge.

But I will start out saying that this novella’s only glaring fault is that it takes some time before anything starts to make sense. About forty or so pages through, I removed myself to look up a mini-synopsis online. A suspicion needed confirming and clang, there it was. Unfortunately, I learned more from PS Publishing’s website than from what I’d already read. Such information isn’t fully revealed until the far-end of The City Beyond Play, making it hard to initially care about the discreditable protagonist. Luckily, this leaves no scars, and there’s plenty of everything else to fascinate the reader.

For all the talk of wires and nanobits, Farmer and Adams open to familiarity. That is, of course, if you’re a reader of epic fantasy or medieval romps. We’re just past a set of gates, being called such things as “knave” and “villain” by the imperious Sir Bobaunce, and the landscape consists of dirt roads, green meadows, and clear brooks. The land is both clean and dirty, new and medieval, comforting and unnerving. Nothing here at all to suggest this is anything other than a trip down Arthurian Lane. Sporadically, Farmer and Adams begin to fill in the pertinent details, all while introducing a slew of wonderfully iconic characters. There’s first Sir Bobaunce, his pride as heavy as his armor and his patience as evident as his love for wine; the Green Baron, with all his flair; Jack o’ Japes, the secretive yet stalker-ish bard; the Wicked Duke who more than lives up to his title; and the Red Knight, a silent finisher and a personal favorite. Despite the brevity of the work, they are all fully realized. One of the more interesting questions about these figures is…who were they before they came to Scadia? Did they, too, run from another life like Gore? Or are they originals, born not knowing the outside world like in M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village? Some we learn the truth of and others we don’t, but it’s this uncertainty that makes them compelling, especially in a society where anyone can be anyone.

Language itself is a vivid part of this work. Everyone speaks appropriately for his or her title, which, while admirably authentic, can make the dialogue feel strained. It might be too much for a casual reader to take in. Thankfully, this being Gore’s tale, we are occasioned to brief breaks. There isn’t anything difficult about the word choices, but they can give reason for pause on occasion. Still, much like In the Eye of Heaven by David Keck and The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, the quality of the prose is strong and well-researched.

There’s a small problem though: Gore’s a murderer. This isn’t a spoiler, but merely a fact. It’s the reason he’s running and seemingly the reason he is able to climb a few social notches. The reader is tied up and pulled along, almost forced to want him to escape the justice known as punishment. Yes, he’s a changed man by the end of it all, but the fact still stands. Or the dead bodies still float in the moat, if there’s a better way to phrase things. We’re rooting for the bad guy here; a bad guy surrounded by villains in a foreign place where lots of people already do bad things, and to stop these acts, one sometimes has to do even worse things, but a bad guy nonetheless. There is, however, a surprising moment with Gore and Lady Melisounde that finally puts you on his side, all the way.

It’s quite challenging to separate the authors from their perspective words. In Split Heirs by Lawrence Watt-Evans and Esther M. Friesner, it is quite clear who is the funnier writer of the two, and Friesner’s prose shined like a polished shield. The same can almost be said of Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman—one is all for larger-than-life characters, the other all about mood and forwarding the frenetic plot. Here, it’s near impossible to tell what was originally Farmer’s words from what Adams created out of an outline, and that makes The City Beyond Play all the more enjoyable. The collaboration reads with ease, never losing its voice and end goal, and the end result is refreshingly rewarding. A perfect mix of scientific gadgetry, Middle Ages gallantry, and the gratifying unknown, this one is well-recommended.

Publisher: PS Publishing (September 2007)
Price: £10.00 [$20.00]
Hardcover: 112 pages
ISBN: 978-1905834242