The Solaris Book of New Fantasy, edited by George Mann

Solaris Publishing’s anthology series has attracted some major names already, and this latest collection, The Solaris Book of New Fantasy, is no exception. Edited by George Mann, it provides a wide ranging and extremely healthy looking cross section of modern fantasy, with something for readers of every taste.

“Who Slays the Gyant, Wounds the Beast” by Mark Chadbourn opens the book strongly with a story of Will Swyfte, Elizabeth the First’s premier spy, and his long-suffering servant, Nathaniel. Folding a cold war with the fae and forbidden romance into the mix, this is an immensely confident, assured story that plays like a cross between a swashbuckler and Doctor Who at its best. Inventive, action-paced, and unflinchingly dark, it hopefully won’t be the last the world sees of Swyfte.

“Reins of Destiny” by Janny Wurts is one of the anthology’s few missteps. Set in her Wars of Light and Shadow universe, it follows Kayjon, a royal horse master, as he receives an unusual visitor on a morning that will prove historical for all the wrong reasons. The central plot is well constructed, even elegant, and the final image has real emotional bite, but “Reins of Destiny” comes dangerously close to being overwritten in places. To make matters worse, readers unfamiliar with the other stories in the series will founder, as Wurts pulls few punches with the dialogue and customs of her world. Well-written, certainly, but one that only fans will get the most from.

James Maxey’s excellent novel, Bitterwood, tells of the last dragonslayer in a world where dragons rule. “Tornado of Sparks,” his offering here, is set in the same universe, a prequel, and follows Vendevorex, the dragon court magician, as he finds himself in an odd situation. The ethics of the dragons are truly fascinating with Maxey writing them as a cross between cats and European royalty, and the sense of incredible physical presence and danger they have is palpable throughout. A standalone story, but one that fans of Bitterwood will welcome, this is another stand out.

“Grander than the Sea” by T.A. Pratt asks one simple question: how do you administer a community which includes immortals, changing breeds, sea witches, and demented scientists who worship seas gods who may or may not exist? Actually that’s a complicated question, one also at the heart of the excellent DC Comics series, Fables. Pratt’s wry story is a window into a world I could definitely bear to spend more time in. Funny, oddly pragmatic, and a real gem.

“The Prince of End Times” by Hal Duncan is the most lyrical story here and also, to be honest, the hardest to follow. A collection of blisteringly clever images and language, it’s a fascinating, intoxicating, and extremely difficult read. That being said, Duncan can put a sentence together like no one else, and this one definitively rewards perseverance.

“King Takes” by Jeff VanderMeer is a collection of three fables that explore how being crowned as king affects a bear, a cat, and the birds. Easily the oddest story in this anthology, it mixes the mundane (the bear king learns better English and runs for mayor) with the fantastical. On their own, each story is amusing if little else, but together they form a clever and extremely eccentric view of one of the classic fantasy tropes.

“In Between Dreams” by Christopher Barzak opens with the arresting image of a woman patiently cleaning, while on the other side of a screen in the centre of the room, a man moans and whimpers who she shouldn’t know is there. Told in dialled back, clean prose is centred on these two characters and their relationship, using that as a springboard into an exploration of what it means to try to change your life and the quiet bravery of the mundane. A great piece, low key and quietly triumphant.

“And Such Small Deer” by Chris Roberson puts a well loved figure of fantasy and horror literature back into the spotlight. Told in a series of letters, as well as journal entries from one Abraham Van Helsing, it’s a fun piece. The period atmosphere is neatly offset by the pulp horror of the central conceit. To say who the individual in question is would spoil the surprise, but trust me, it’s worth the read.

“The Wizard’s Coming” by Juliet E. Mckenna is a detailed, almost epic story about the effect that one particular wizard has on the lives of a small group of people. It’s not rapidly plotted, and the text borders on the ponderous in places, but the overall story is actually effective. It’s a refreshing change to see wizards portrayed as weapons of mass destruction, and for that alone, “The Wizard’s Coming” is worth reading.

John Justin Mallory, the star of “Shell Game” by Mike Resnick, is more Dean Martin than Mike Hammer. A witty, if charmingly down at hell P.I., he’s hired by a man, John Fitzgerald Kennedy (not the real one), to find a lamia egg. But, despite the help of his partner, Winnifred, and office cat, Felina, Mallory soon finds himself in over his head. There’s nothing particularly original here—the supernatural P.I. concept has been done uncountable times before—but it’s huge fun, nonetheless. The casual, wry humour and the banter between the main characters are a particular standout.

“The Song Her Heart Sang” by Steven Savile is set in his world of Thera but is completely accessible on its own. Lukas Meya has decided to prove his love to Lilli. As the story progresses, we see Lukas mature and grow, until he realises exactly what he’s doing. It’s an intimate, close-up character piece, deeply poignant without ever forcing the emotion. Easily one of the best and most unusual stories in this anthology.

One of the oddest is “A Man Falls” by Jay Lake. Peleppos is a criminal who finds himself in a unique position. Lake’s writing does a great job at drawing enough of the world to understand it but not so much as to overburden the reader. The conclusion is surprising, poignant, and peculiarly hopeful. Eccentric and affecting, this is one that will stay with you long after you’ve read it.

Conrad Williams’s dreamlike “O Caritas” is set in a London all but obliterated by climate change. Monck finds himself forced to confront his past problems and his relationship with the city. Littered with beautiful imagery—from children playing with what might be teeth or dice to the final confrontation— this is a hallucinatory tale with a real edge.

“Lt. Privet’s Love Song” by Scott Thomas opens with the young officer of the title going in search of love and finding it—which is, of course, when the trouble starts. Thomas’s light prose brings the airy quality of the story out perfectly, and it’s a breezy, entertaining read throughout. There’s a sense of Stardust-era Neil Gaiman here, a feeling one part morality tale and one part romantic comedy. The end result is remarkably strong.

Lucius Shepard’s “Chinandega” is an interesting, slow burn of a piece. The reader follows Alvaro as he arrives in the titular town in search of a woman. Events play out in a manner reminiscent, to me at least, of the classic Spencer Tracy movie, Bad Day at Black Rock. There’s the same simmering sense of menace, the same tension, barely contained beneath the surface. It’s a restrained, almost dignified read in places, which some readers may find heavy going. Stick with it; it’s more than worth it.

Finally, Steven Erikson’s deeply odd “Quashie Trapp Blacklight” begins with a hurricane over Jamaica and takes in romance, an unusually perceptive elephant, and a tarantula secret agent along the way. Erikson’s prose runs the gamut from inventive and light to a little over pleased with itself. But despite this, the sheer manic invention and energy make for a highly entertaining read. Fantasy in the most literal sense and huge fun as a result.

Publisher: Solaris (November 2007)
Price: $7.99
Mass Market Paperback: 512 pages
ISBN: 184416523X