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buri-art · 6 years

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Wuqiao Acrobatics World

A few years ago while trying to keep my Mandarin skills in tact, I saw a short documentary about Wuqiao, Hebei Province, said to be the birthplace of Chinese acrobatics, and where all the villagers can at least do some acrobatics (I treat that saying with a big grain of salt, but phrases like this do have some impact on local identity). For my last six-day backpacking trip in China, I planned it around going to Wuqiao for a day trip and seeing this circus-y place myself.

I’ll start out by saying that if you don’t speak Chinese or feel very comfortable getting around in a place that speaks no English, I wholeheartedly recommend going with a tour group from Beijing or Tianjin if you want to go here yourself. The venue is designed for groups with coordinated performance times and dependable transportation. I found this out through trial and error and missed a few morning performances that way. Sniffle!

Anyway, if you search “Wuqiao” in English most of the results will be the same short article on multiple websites and several tours designed for foreign travelers from Beijing, so while I don’t have a specific recommendation, I can say that Chinese tour guides will vary a lot and as long as you have a small group, you’ll have an easier time getting a good guide who will be flexible to your interests. So now onto my June 19, 2018 experience!

Sometimes when people talk smack about tour groups, they say it’s because they want to the see the “real” things, not touristy things. I see where this comment is coming from; sometimes a superficial run-around of a handful of packed locations that the locals never go to and then hours spent being shoved into gift shops is going to make it feel like you learned nothing in a foreign country except for the stresses of international travel. However, as someone who has worked in foreign tourism before, I want to point out a couple things: 1. If you have a good guide, you’re going to get a far more awesome experience than you might have been able to plan on your own. You’re not lame for enjoying the good (and often amazing) services of a tour operator who cares about giving you a good time. 2. In China, you’re getting something “real” anyway. That was one of my biggest impressions of this very dilapidated tourist venue.

“This is so China,” I thought.

To boil the past several decades of Chinese economic history down simply, China has lifted millions of people from starving to having disposable income (it can’t be understated how large of a feat this has been, though poverty is still a significant issue). When a population goes from “most people are so poor that everyone stays put” to “whoa, we have... money?? Um... let’s do fun stuff! Let’s go places!!”, this is what gives birth to the development of domestic tourism. And China, as you might guess, is chock full of amazing landscapes and historical locations.

China got this great idea: Now that people are making money, let’s make them spend money, so we can make more money!

China, more so than any other place I’ve been, will find any way it can to monetize a tourism destination. Is there a cool rock? Put a fence around it to obstruct the view, make people pay to see it. Is the lake too big to put a fence around it? Have Zhang Yimou make an “Impression” show there and have people pay to see that! Too big of an area to charge admission at each spot? Block off the whole area and add some nifty transportation options inside. No possible way to block it off because the historic area is in actual daily use? Call in the vendors, kids, we’re still going to make something off of this!

Yes, I’ve been to places with free admission, and often I only stopped in because they were free admission. And I rather liked a lot of those free places, yes. But in general, if you’re traveling to see something, you’re going to pay to see it, even if it means paying admission to even get closer to a village.

But that means building stuff to justify it being something to see and spend money on. That means, with extra money suddenly available to you and/or pressure from above to make something snazzy and brag-worthy really fast, you build a lot of things. Domestic tourists have come to expect big fancy stuff, and construction makes this world (or at least this country) go round!

And then you do the press reports. Take some good pictures. Have people make a cool documentary. Welcome the tour groups, stay busy while the place is shiny.

And then let it fall into disrepair.

There are many tourism facilities in China which are really, really nice, and kept that way. But there are also not only tourism projects finished and then abandoned, or slowed indefinitely partway. This is pretty “real.” It’s not just tourism; this is very “real” for a lot of China’s rapid economic development and construction projects, even entire new cities that they couldn’t get anyone to move into.

So yes, by coming to Wuqiao Acrobatic World, you’re getting a very real experience of what modern day China is like, especially outside of the biggest cities or especially famous tourism facilities.

But you know what makes that awesome? The people here were so much fun to interact with.

Before leaving on my trip, I told some Chinese friends and coworkers where I was going, and they had never heard of Wuqiao. When I told them about it, some reacted in horror that I’m interested in acrobatics. “But it’s so sad,” one friend said. “The kids go through so much pain to train like that.”

Yes, the performance arts and competitive sports worlds of China have a long and ongoing history of this. But I also really, really like watching circuses. If someone loves their art and works hard at it, then I want to watch them, I want to be impressed by them, I want to reward that hard work by giving it my attention. I’ve had some fun experiences in the past with helping backstage when grassroots level diplomatic groups of performers went to my college in the US or in the city I worked for in Japan, and I’ll never forget how spirited those Chinese contortionists were, and how easy they made being bendy look.

So anyway. In all this preamble I haven’t even gotten to my travels yet. I took a morning train in from Tianjin and with only some little red tuk-tuk like cars with three wheels available for transportation, I went with a guy who gave me a ride for 5 RMB (about 77 US cents). He was a nice old guy who also picked me up later right on time for my return that afternoon. But, uh, one of the doors of the little vehicle wouldn’t close.

It’s a short ride, but not really walking distance, especially if you only have about six hours to spend there. The town is still mostly farming community, on the platform of the train station you can watch people take care of sheep and stack up dry reeds. The town is hot and dry in summer with smooth traffic, wide roads, and no tall buildings. I arrived at the Acrobatics World on a weekday morning with no line to get tickets and enter.

There were a few scattered people who stared and whispered (loudly), “Whoa, it’s a foreigner,” a phrase that after a while either bounces off of you completely or piles up on you so much that by the end of a trip off the beaten path you think your trapezius will snap if you hear it again. I found buildings under construction and a temple, and because many tourism facilities have temples built into them, I assumed I’d politely go straight through it. Not so! Turns out you go around this one, which I would have had no idea about had a woman not approached me and told me so.

So, with no one in sight (an odd sight in and of itself at a tourism facility in China), I went hunting for the acrobats.

I hunted a long time, saw a few people here and there. Passed a few people making noise in what looked like a wuxia version of a renaissance festival fairground, but according to the maps, I decided to press northward, looking for, well, whatever it was I was looking for, or at least trying to figure out what all was there.

Well, like, nobody, basically. A few people here and there, but mostly some lonely statues in various groupings around a wide park, some architectural pieces ignored and serving no purpose, some poorly kept animals (I chose not to check out the “Funny Zoo” area), but mostly big expanses of nobody. After living in a place like Shanghai for a while--a place unkind to introverts--you come to really appreciate those periods of nobodyness, and walking around this place had the same sort of bizarre allure of photos of abandoned, flooded shopping malls.

This would be such a great spot for hanfu photoshoots with nobody in your way! But I’d need someone to take the photos, something to wear in the photos, and a much better hair day than I was having on that whole trip.

Anyway, based on the size of the building, I had assumed that I reached the “main spot” I was aiming for, whatever that was.

This was a combination of performance space and museum, so I started at the museum. When I approached there were a couple women hanging out on the red queuing gates, not quite doing acrobatics, but not keeping their feet on the ground either. They were surprised to see me, and I asked if I could go in, and they were like, “um... okay,” and turned the lights on inside. I asked if I could take pictures, and they said yes. While enjoying myself in the first room of the winding exhibits, I heard them talking to each other and saying, “She asked if she could go in. Then she asked if she could take photos.” What I wish I would have overheard them saying would have been something like, “What the hell is she doing over here, doesn’t she know that the only action taking place in this whole facility is going on as scheduled over in the Jianghu Culture City ren-faire-ish-place?” But I heard no such thing, and enjoyed the museum in ignorance.

As far as Chinese museums are concerned, they’re a very mixed bag, but I rather liked the contents of this simple, small one. Everything had good English translations--and by that I don’t mean clear and grammatical, but actually useful content that puts what you’re seeing into context. Here are a few bits I liked:

Not all of the rooms were as interesting as others; and although I have a passing interest in how Chinese circus is used diplomatically, I didn’t have enough of one to stay in those exhibits for long. I was starting to get the sense that I was missing out on the performances. If I felt less rushed and was there with friends, however, I probably would have had a great time in this room, with this corner of traditional circus props, easily in arms’ reach and not mounted in place.

Nothing said not to play with them, but nothing said that it was okay to touch them either. I decided to err on the side of doubt. After all, assuming such things in the past had lead me to get bitten by a penguin.

Back to acrobats, I zoomed through the very empty painting and gift shop (if it can even be called that) rooms, where the people working there did not even look up from their phones. After that I found where they keep the horses (poor, skinny horses... let’s not even get to those bored, chained monkeys I saw later with nothing and nobody around to prevent a wandering tourist from walking right up to them--I imagine that could have been more disastrous than my encounter with the penguin). Then I found--what?? People??? What’s more, it was like a group of moms and a couple little kids watching some teens in capes on a round stage, the Red Peony stage. I asked if I could watch, and finally, these people told me what I wish someone would had told me in the first place:

All the performances are scheduled in different locations. The Jianghu Culture City has the morning and late afternoon performances, and the northern buildings and horse track have the early afternoon shows. Ohhhhhh, no wonder.

So I hurried over to where all the smart tourists and their group guides were; watching this guy.

I only caught the tail end of his act, and from the looks of the stage he must had been smashing bricks with his face or something earlier, who knows. He climbed down the handles of the swords at the end of his act, but if I had gotten there earlier, I assume I would have seen something like this:

Hmm. Not super sharp at tourist-reach, but still, ouch.

Immediately after that everyone shuffled over to this tent for some other folk acrobatics by a little troupe: Some lovely ladies young and not-as-young, some burly men, a dwarf, and a guy from the audience picked out for the knife-throwing show who had the build, expression, and haircut of a circus performer himself. He was at the other shows that day too, so I don’t suspect he was a plant. Chinese men just have some weird haircuts, that’s all.

Couldn’t really get good pictures in there, but you had a girl sitting on a chair balanced on a swinging trapeze, a routine with blocks complete with juggling and handstands and flips, the aforementioned knife-thrower who doubled as the clown of the show, a jar juggler who catches the big jar on his head and neck, a jar juggler who spins a much, much, much, much larger iron jar on her feet that three burly men needed to lift together, and this lady doing what you see here:

A note here about those tour groups---they were overwhelmingly made up of middle age men. I did see a few families with small children, some younger couples, and a fair number of women mixed with the men, but the groups of men who all knew each other was striking. Maybe I just happened to go on a day when they were planning big outings, who knows.

After that, there was a very, very small “performance” in this little back-alley area of the Jianghu Culture City, where there were many performance areas with signs stating the folk artist and their performing times, but with seating areas filled with, well, seats that they had probably pulled out of other areas and had not yet taken to the dump.

That said, some of the area felt downright homey. I was the only person over there at first when a lady was about to do her sales pitch--I mean, “performance” explaining that they were selling fans decorated with the origins of the 100 most common Chinese surnames. Many of the men bought them for 30 RMB each ($4.61 USD). I got one for my roommate since her surname is rather uncommon, she hadn’t seen something like that before and found it interesting.

Anyway, the lady there was very friendly, and insisted I put my heavy backpack down on her chair so I could relax while looking around (she also insisted I leave it there while enjoying my afternoon, but I declined). She would have been the right person to meet right away when I got to the park, she explained the whole schedule of the park (which I had mostly figured out by then) and helped me to plan how to make the best of my time left that afternoon, and she walked with me part way to the only place to get food in the whole area. She was on her way home for lunch, she said. Everyone working there is local and all the performers go home for lunch, except the director, who often has to show VIP guests around. Since she was so cheerfully talking about the place and clearly took pride in this being their local claim to fame (I got that sense from a few other people too), I considered asking if it was true that everyone could do at least a little acrobatics. I decided against asking, but kind of wish I had.

If you do ever get there and want to make sure you get to the see every performance offered from the moment the park opens, you do have the option of staying at the Red Peony Hotel! This is really your only option for food anyway. The staff was very friendly (and not overly friendly, so I could thankfully eat my meal in peace!), though I can’t say the food or ambiance was anything special, even for a tourist facility.

The fish sauce tasted like ketchup.

It was a really long lunch break. I imagine that’s when wiser people would have walked around the odd groupings of statues and architecture of questionable purpose in the park, or gone to the museum to play with hula hoops and throw ceramic jars at each other. I went out to the empty horse track to reapply sunscreen, smell the nature, listen to birds, and gaze into the lotus pond. And frown at how skinny the horses were.

The Red Peony theater opened at 1:30pm. There was a very small line; I was one of the first people there and got a good seat in a round theater that looked like it could hold up to 200 audience members. People continued to trickle in for 25 minutes. They were starting late that day, they said, blaming it on either having VIP tour groups who take their time or having foreign performers who take their time. For twenty minutes they played a Backstreet Boys song on repeat, and I looked at the apparatuses around the stage--a small Russian swing, three aerial hoops of different sizes, a couple silks, a triple-wheeled Wheel of Death (does it have a different name when three people are cheating death?) behind a curtain, a large net hung up out of the way, and some set pieces that looked like a wooden ship set to either side of the stage. After twenty minutes of Backstreet Boys they played the entirety of Hotel California before starting the show.

They had signs forbidding photography and Yours Truly is a rule-follower even in China where these silly rules about video recording are flat-out ignored even at Cirque du Soleil performances, so I doodled the show on the train a few hours later.

This was no Cirque du Soleil, let’s be clear about that. It was more like the community theater version of a Broadway show; everyone was doing their best but items were unintentionally dropped and costume pieces flew off, but everyone was encouraging because the kids were doing their best.

Let’s look back at a few parts of that sentence: 1. Encouraging audience: Chinese audiences can be extremely frustrating to perform in front of, because they are so likely to chat among themselves or play on their phones--I charitably chalk this up to a cultural difference that historically elevates the pleasure of the audience over the hard work of performers, but it still drives me crazy in my current job that involves training kids to do things in front of audiences. That said, this works in another way--when a Chinese audience is engaged, they’ll be very, very engaged, and even if these performers were dropping their stuff, they still kept the audience’s attention and smiles and applause, so it’s all good.

2. Their best: Sure, they weren’t the sort of performers I’d expect to see if I paid the big ticket price to go watch the Shanghai Circus, which is primarily geared toward foreign tourists. But they are still insanely skilled and have obviously poured hours and hours and hours of their life into this. Also, very importantly, many (but not all...) of them look like they truly enjoy it. As a point of comparison, I went to the Shaolin Temple eight years ago, and the whole little town of Dengfeng surrounding it was filled with schoolyards of boys from all over China studying there to fulfill their kung fu dreams. The boys in the temple, however, are often problem children sent there for discipline. I watched the show they put on, which the adults are full-on performers for. The boys also performed amazing stunts, but the whole time looked like they were sick and tired of tourists and having to do the same flips and feats every day. It was unintentionally funny to see such bored, sour looks on their faces as they were soaring through the air. The performers in this show did see themselves as performers and acted like it--though the expressions came much more naturally to some than others.

3. Kids: Yeah, no two-ways about it, the vast majority of this cast looked very, very young. This includes both the foreign troupe and the local Chinese kids. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if none of the local performers in this show were adults. Even the stage crew looked like they were all teenagers.

My friends’ words about “aren’t you sad for them, having to do all that painful training?” rang through my head during a couple of the performances in particular. The five contortionists smiled charmingly and performed without mishap, but I was very afraid that someone was going to break in one way or another. Their bodies shook with both unbalance and strain, and sitting that close to the stage, I could read some “uh oh” in their faces at times. The rollerskating show was charming at first with the pairings of what looked like high school boys with elementary school boys, all of whom kept a gracious performer’s attitude the whole time, even with small mishaps. At the end of the act they spun the little boys around by cords on their necks (like the graceful aerial hoop duo had done in a less startling way). Despite being really impressed, my stomach churned with pity for them.

The foreign troupe had quite a mix as well of veteran and less-veteran performers, and some mishaps here and there, but overall good shows. They seemed a little casual and self-managed, like one of the kids who performed earlier in the show snuck out into the middle of the audience later to watch his buddy and then sneak backstage again. I had to wonder about them too--how long were they going to be in Wuqiao? Did they go to other places around the world too? Did they choose the circus life, or did the circus life choose them?

Before getting dragged too deep into wondering about the darker sides I know exist behind something I love watching perhaps a little bit more than the average person does, the clown came out.

The very, very, very white, platinum blonde clown.

She and the person in a polar bear suit did a charming, although not particularly funny or impressive routine, but what struck me most was how naturally she lit up being on stage, and that she might had been told in clown schools that she was “too pretty” to be a clown (something I recall hearing about happening to many young women who try to go into that). What was really captivating about this clown was that it was like she wanted more than anything to be a clown, and she looked like she was having the time of her life.

At the end of the show the performers all came out to, well, not do a final bow persay, but wave at all the tourists on their way out to go to the “Home of the Demon Hand” theater across from the Red Peony Theater. I let things clear out before standing up, and the clown saw me, locked eyes, and very smilingly said, “AMAZING!!”

Amazing to see another lone white girl there, I’m sure.

We were both on our way out in opposite directions, but we had the following conversation: Me: Where are you from? Her: Ukraine! Me (pointing to the guest performers heading backstage without her): Where are they from? Her: (wild look over her shoulder, a look back at me, a giant shrug and nervous laughter)

We waved and then went our separate ways, but I wanted to say, “Come back here, girl, give me your life story.”

Instead I went to the next show and squeezed into what I thought would give me a good view of the sleight-of-hand tricks that old’ Demon Hand was apparently famous enough for to have his own theater hall.

The 74-year-old man in a silk outfit (the top of which he later took off to prove he had nothing up his sleeve) and ponytail started the show by very, very firmly insisting on no photographs, but they had the option of getting a logo’d photograph with him before the show. A small crowd of people, mostly middle age men but a spunky younger woman too, went up and forked over their cash.

To be honest, I got really irritated for the first ten minutes or so of the show. He was a gifted performer, yes, but he was more of an improve comedian who talked a big game (his sleight of hand tricks were impressive, yes, but they made up a very, very small portion of his show). Furthermore, I couldn’t see very well around the guy in front of me, so I had to lean forward and to the sides. It was so much trash talk with men in the audience that I couldn’t follow very well (my Chinese is good, but not enough to understand all the humor), and it wasn’t very possible to stand up and leave without calling a huge amount of attention to myself.

Call attention to myself I did anyway.

As part of his goading the audience, he invites skeptics to come crowd around him and watch him closely to verify his tricks. I stayed put, not really in the mood for all the talk and just wanting to see some impressive tricks to justify my staying put. Well, he saw me, and pointed everyone’s attention in my direction, and I had to announce where I was from, and he ordered me down to his side to watch.

So I sat directly next to him and had to play along with the “I’ll show you some real Chinese kung fu!” bravado and do my best to answer any quick questions he shot at me to answer, like “how many are under the cup?”.

He made some men bet their cigarettes on a few tricks, and was accumulating a stack of cigarette boxes on the table. The number of people standing, sitting, and squatting around him dwindled. I awkwardly stayed put because I knew he’d call me out if I tried to escape, so better that I stayed there and ready to quip back the next time he quipped something at me. And yeah, I totally had a better view of the tricks and could appreciate them a lot more from the table-eye view, so it was my luck that I was the one foreign face in the room.

Toward the end of the routine he dared anyone in the rowdy audience to come sit in his chair and do the tricks themselves to make a bet. No one did.

He told me to sit in the chair.

I half-way expected that. Thankfully I can play along well as the casual “I just came here to have a good time, I don’t know what you’re making me do and I never asked for this, but okay, tell me what to do” young foreign beauty* there to make the show more interesting for the audience.

*(This is how the locals describe me, and they often insist on taking photos with me. Often without permission. Often when I am looking my worst from days of backpacking in hot weather with tired looking skin, extremely unruly hair, and practical although unflattering outfits.)

He asked me to place a bet, but I think we had some difficulty understanding each other’s Mandarin, because he’s got a thick local accent and I have a foreign one.

Him: You don’t smoke, do you? Place a bet for something else. Me: Me? Him: What do you want? Food or something? Me: ...how about something sweet? Him: Money!? Me: No, sweets... Him: No no no, we can’t do money. Come on, there’s no point if you don’t bet anything. Hmm. Tell you what. If you win, I’ll make you my ghdrtsmplwssz. Me: (His what???)

I have no clue what he said. My guess is something along the lines of either “disciple” or “bride.”

Well, the coolest part was that he had me hold one little styrofoam ball in my hand, and next thing you know, I had two of them in my hand, and that was pretty impressive, enough to make the whole show’s worth of trash talk worth the experience.

And then he had me stand up with him and he thanked me as the audience applauded, and he introduced me as his ghdrtsmplwssz, everyone clapped, and then he hugged me a few times from different angles so a couple sides of the audience could see my face. I played along with a wide-eyed “what the hell is going on, save me” look.

And then he went in for the smooch.

I can do the “pure innocent maiden who blushes at the sight of a man’s lips” routine really well. Plus, practicing martial arts makes me really fast at blocking incoming attacks like this that I have faced at a few times throughout my life, so the dramatic hand in the air, lean backwards, and turned maidenly face were all automatic rather than calculated.

We repeated this a few times, with the lean getting more comically pronounced each time. He tried to insist that this is what they do in America (like the hug), but my maidenly virtue won out in the end, and he graciously played it off and gave me the send off back to my seat in the audience. Sorry dude, I’m stubborn about kissing strangers.

After that was the horse show. I skipped it and went back to the Jianghu Culture City to catch some of the repeats of morning shows I missed.

Which was really only one. A lady saw me walking around and tried to help me plan where to be at the right time, in a helpful, non-pushy way (I am so grateful when I get this mix of helpful and non-pushy). The only other show I had time to see was Chuipotian, the suona (horn) performer. His bio introduces him well:

It was a short show with just a few audience members, including a couple women who wanted photos with me and a girl who looked around one year old who kept wandering off so her dad had to chase her while mom enjoyed the show. I found his crosstalk with the audience a lot more enjoyable than Demon Hand’s, though I had to stay on my toes to make responses here too.

As for the sound of the suona, it’s like a screaming duck. If you’ve ever seen Beijing Opera, you can probably recognize its sound. (I don’t think it’s used as much in southern opera styles. On that note, I find southern styles more melodic.) It was a fun cacophony of a show.

He mostly used smaller ones, this just makes for the funnest photo. He also included some non-instrument related tricks, like taking a lit cigarette from someone and doing tricks with the smoke, swallowing the cigarette, and pulling it out of his ear, still lit. All while reminding you that smoking is harmful to your health.

Immediately after the show, the ladies with him pulled me aside and started teaching me his catchphrase. They caught on through the crosstalk and a little conversation before the show that I’d be a good person to do a little social media routine for them, saying “(Something I could not for the life of me understand but sounded catchy), he’s the real deal from Wuqiao, CHUIPOTIAN!” After rehearsing it several times to make sure I got it right, and the woman in red holding the camera directing me to just be big and fun with it, we recorded it with me standing next to him, looking into the camera, and pointing at him. They were all very pleased with my good work and looked forward to uploading it.

They were super nice and fun to talk to (there weren’t any other immediate performances to watch while everyone else was still at the horse show), and Chuipotian gave me his business card so we could be friends on WeChat, but within ten minutes of taking my leave I dropped it. Good thing I’m not a juggler.

My friend the 5 RMB driver with the one functional door met me right at the appointed time, and people chilling at the train station were also very aware of me. They were a great mix of kind and looking out for me, but not all up in my business. I appreciate it greatly.

And then I left on a crowded, cheapest-seat car of a train that would take over three hours to reach Tianjin. I had enjoyed the day and all the people I got to interact with the (even old Demon Hand, I guess), but being an introvert, I was grateful to have the chance to chill and make the above doodles in my notebook.

But then people figured out I understand Chinese and started chatting with me.

For three straight hours.

To be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve been in the position to play a vehicle of foreign exchange for hours and hours at a time, and it can be fun, but it’s such a relief when you can rest.

And rest I did, on the night train I switched to in Tianjin to get to my next stop on the trip. I slept pretty well for it being on the cheapest berths, stacked three-high with little more than the average Chinese man’s body width. After maneuvering on the top berth with my heavy backpack, I felt like a pretty good circus performer myself.

#China #circus

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preserving-ferretbrain · 5 years

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Melusine - A Review

by Wardog

Saturday, 27 January 2007

Wardog indulges herself with Sarah Monette's debut novel, Melusine.~

Don't you just hate it when you start out liking something in a smug, ironic way and somehow end up it liking it for real? I began Sarah Monette's Melusine (which, for the record, sports a half-naked wizard on the cover with a haunted look in his eyes and a flag of red hair flying out behind him) expecting trashy, easily mockable fun but, having devoured the book with such enthusiasm and responded in such a genuine way to the characters, I cannot in good conscience deride it. Yes, it's trashy fantasy but only in the sense that it possesses in abundance all the strengths of that kind of book, by which I mean it's engrossing, intriguing and blissfully easy to read. Textual chocolate, if you will; the best, sweetest most meltingly delightful Lindt chocolate. Indulge yourself.

Here be (mild) Spoilers

Set in the pseudo-Renaissance(ish) city of Melusine, the book follows the fortunes of two half brothers, the seemingly upper-class Felix Harrowgate, spectacularly screwed up wizard, and the staunchly lower-class Mildmay, slightly less screwed up cat burglar. Felix gets tangled up in a Dastardly Plot to overthrow the city's magic and goes through about three hundred pages of hell, in which he is raped, abused, threatened, driven mad, sent to a lunatic asylum, forced to take the fall for the Dastardly Plot and generally broken into a thousand tiny pieces, before he and Mildmay finally meet.

As I said earlier, the book capitalises on many of the strengths of the genre, but it also shares some of its weaknesses. If you actually want, y'know, something to happen fantasy is perhaps not the genre for you. There is, I am sure, a plot in there some where but the characterisation is so deft and the world so well delineated that I actually didn't notice its absence. The book only really finds its focus when fate and circumstance bring Felix and Mildmay together; the preceding action feels rather like an excessively long prologue. Felix's plot, at least, has the virtue of necessity; understanding what he's gone through is a small step in the direction of not finding him unbelievably irritating and he is, after all, the key to the plot. Mildmay, however, seems to be marking time until the book moves on sufficiently to allow him to fulfil his main role in the story as Felix's only protector. Although things happen to him, they all feel a little irrelevant.

Ultimately, though, this is typical of the genre; it doesn't have prologues, it has first books. And, on the subject of first books, Melusine is clearly the introduction to a series, and very little attempt is made to maintain its readability as a standalone book. If I didn't know Amazon was winging book two, The Virtu, to me as I type, this review would be harsher because I'd be screaming with frustration. The internet tells me Melusine and The Virtu were originally planned as one book, which perhaps goes some way to explaining (if not excusing) the weakness of the ending.

On the other hand, although not a satisfactory conclusion to the action of the story, it was nevertheless a satisfactory conclusion in terms of character. One of the things I particularly relished about Melusine is the depth and detail of the characterisation and, whether it not it was a deliberate decision or a consequence of the division of the book, I found myself appreciating the way the Big Plot is always subsidiary to individual actions and character, especially in the sort of genre where saving-the-world-from-evil tends to be the order of the day. Basically I'm trying to say that if you're used to the way fantasy works then you'll have no problems with Melusine and you'll be refreshed by things-not-happening for legitimate character reasons as opposed to pointless fantasy tourism or spurious authorial intent. If you're not a fantasy aficionado, Melusinemight still be an excellent place to start but wait until Sarah Monette has finished the series.

Melusine is narrated in alternating sections from the perspective of its two central characters; the constant changes in perspective and attitude works exceptionally well, and gives the book the same sort of bite-sized moreishness as the early Song of Ice and Fire novels. Felix and Mildmay have very different voices, Felix's very i-centric, faintly evasive, often madness-driven, interiority-focused narration contrasts strikingly with Mildmay's wryly humorous and action-packed street cant. It's the perfect device for exploring the world without subjecting the reader to tedious world-building exercises (sorry if I sound bitter, I've been living on the equivalent of a Super Sized Me diet of fantasy novels) and very soon creates an intense bond between the reader and the characters. I am hugely impressed by Monette's ability to evoke the atmosphere and the richness of her world without sacrificing the pace of the book in unnecessary explanations for the sake of the reader. The complicated calendar is an excellent example of this; knowing it's there enriches the reader's experience but I am infinitely grateful that Monette felt no obligation to inflict its intricate workings upon me.

The character of Mildmay is, quite simply, wonderful. Monette somehow succeeds in completely rejuvenating the stock fantasy trope of the thief-with-a-heart-of-gold. His street-slang is very well judged, never impedes intelligibility and never feels like a gimmick. The language slips occasionally. I remember tripping over "it commenced to rain" Mildmay, surely, would never use commence if he could say start. But for the most part he's beautifully written; his stories of the city and its history, particularly, are fascinating.

The Felix sections are slightly more difficult to deal with than the Mildmay ones I was certainly interested in him but I'm still not sure whether I like him, or how far the author wants us to forgive his flaws and think he's cool. To be fair he spends most of the book being mad or driven mad but, regardless of whatever brilliance he possess, he is still vain, self-destructive and shallow. There are reasons for this but the fact that Mildmay survived his (admittedly slightly less gruelling) upbringing with compassion, integrity and generosity intact and Felix turned into an utter prick doesn't do him any favours. As a case in point, near the end of the book, the brothers finally arrive at the Gardens of Nephele where they hope to find a cure for Felix's madness. Mildmay nearly kills himself getting Felix there; it is telling that, on waking up, his first act is to ask about his brother, whereas Felix's, on being cured, is to ask for some earrings to remind him of his former life of high society glory. Enough said?

Although an utterly absorbing technique, there are some problems with the alternating narration. It focuses the book so completely on Felix and Mildmay that secondary characters seem shadowy. The wizards were particularly indistinguishable, and very often secondary characters would fall away with little or no explanation. It makes sense that they would (Felix and Mildmay aren't omniscient after all) but it does make the book occasionally emotionally unsatisfying. Furthermore, because we only ever see other characters through the eyes of Felix or Mildmay it makes them less convincing than perhaps they could be. The villain, Malkar, for example, purrs in a sinister fashion and does terrible things to Felix but his plans, motivations and behaviour remain so oblique that he seems to be being Evil simply for the sake of it. And as for Felix's former lover, the beautiful Shannon, he basically flounces through the book, professes love for Felix but fails utterly to support him and throws a huff when the abused and broken Felix won't sleep with him. This little betrayal would have been far more effective had I been able to see even slightly what Felix saw in him. Similarly, we are constantly told that Felix has a cruel and devastating wit; but, when he isn't being mad, his flaying tongue seems primarily capable of delivering a fairly juvenile brand of sarcasm. I feel his pain.

Before I wrap this up in a storm of praise and adoration, I probably ought to make some mention of non PG content. Some pretty nasty stuff happens to Felix early on in the book including a rape scene that, although not graphic, is still quite unpleasant. And, let's face it, any book in which one of the protagonists could be described as "an ex-prostitute gay wizard" isn't likely to be appeal to everyone. Oh yes, I should probably say that Felix is gay, which could presumably be offensive to homophobes. I should add that Felix is gay in a rather well-done and understated way. He just is: no big deal. Move along. Nothing to see here.

In conclusion then, and nitpicking aside, this book is one of the most enjoyable works of fantasy I've read for what feels like a very long time. If you don't mind the slightly risqu content and won't be put off by the lack of a concrete conclusion, I heartily recommend that you give Melusine a go. It's immensely engaging, has a genuinely rich and complex setting that never oppresses you with unnecessary detail, and two excellently written protagonists. I'd even go so far as to say that it has revived my interest in fantasy. I could gush more but The Virtu has just arrived and I have to run off and read it.Themes:

Books

Sarah Monette

Sci-fi / Fantasy

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Rami

at 22:17 on 2007-01-27Sounds good! The only other fantasy I've ever read that featured a gay character was Trudi Canavan's Black Magician trilogy, which did do the "OMG it's a GAY! How will the society DEAL with THIS?" thing a bit too much...

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Wardog

at 22:54 on 2007-01-27Yeah, I loved it to pieces. I've so far ducked the Black Magician Trilogy but I may get round to it at some point. Mercedes Lackey does a selection of gay wizards as well, but they spend all their timing angsting and never getting laid. What is with wizards and teh gay - there's probably an article in there somewhere. I think it must be the fact they're generally depicted wearing dresses...err...robes. Can't be good for the manhood. I really like the fact Felix's sexual preferences are incidental - of course he's getting all incestuous over Mildmay now so it'll be interesting to see where Monette goes with that.

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 10:51 on 2009-09-13Another one wich is perhaps rather more bisexual is David Feintuch's The Still, which is also handled very realistically when it comes to peoples reactions and all.

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Wardog

at 13:05 on 2009-09-13Oh really? I'm kind of burned off pretty, vulnerable, sexually ambivalent heroes for the moment (I didn't enjoy the 4th book of this series, for example, there's a Damage Report knocking around somewhere) but thanks for the recommendation. I'll look it out one of these days.

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 13:00 on 2009-09-16It's a good book and it was nice to remember it after I read your article. That has happened quite often after I stumbled in your site while reading the articles. I read The Still as an adolescent in 1997 and I was a bit confused to really appreciate its kind of...hard fantasy, if that's the correct term.

I should probably read it again myself, since on recollection, it is a very well written work, with good characterization. It takes the risk of intentionally building the central character as an arrogant whiny teenager who, although with some reason, alianates people close to him before he learns how to behave like an adult and be a good leader. Although the he is a he and a heir to the throne to boot, it really centres on his development into aa adult and what it costs a person to be a leader.

Also, I'm not sure, but I think it might be pretty unique in a western fantasy story to have a love triangle of two males and a female where its center is on the male and it is represented completely straight and serious without comedy and with significant effect on the plot and not necessarily in a good way.

Sorry, but I'm unaccustomed in writing in english so the sentences seem to build up a bit. Oh well, more practice I guess.

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Wardog

at 16:32 on 2009-09-16Your English is thoroughly excellent - and much better than my command of any other language. I'm definitely curious now, sounds like a really interesting book and I'll certainly try to lay my hands on a copy now, and I think you're right, a straight up love triangle that isn't two women / one man seems pretty rare. I can't think of any other examples, actually.

I'm not quite sure what 'hard fantasy' is compared to say, 'hard sci-fi' (which I know is lots of science) but I guess I'll find out when I read it :)

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http://ruderetum.blogspot.com/

at 19:35 on 2009-09-16I use it in the sense that if there's a thing called magic, it is very rare and very restricted in its application if there is any magic at all. For example Guy Gavriel Kay's The Sarantine Mosaic with only mystical phenomena a few times during two books compared to the Wheel of Time series.

#Ferretbrain #Sarah Monette #Wardog #Melusine

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