Caitlin R. Kiernan. To Charles Fort, With Love (Subterranean Press, 2005)
In his Afterword to this collection of short fiction, Ramsey Campbell says that "Caitlin Kiernan is one of the true visionaries and finest stylists in our field, and not just in contemporary terms." Effusive praise indeed from a man who is himself considered a true visionary and a master stylist. I certainly am not one to quibble with Mr. Campbell.
The thirteen stories in this collection form somewhat of a retrospective look at Kiernan's work between 1999 and 2003. Each story is accompanied by its own Afterword by the author, in which she explains something of the genesis of the story and its history. These small glimpses into the author's mind cast a revealing light on the stories and enhance the reader's enjoyment. These stories also show Kiernan's progression as a writer. We can see how she hones her craft through practice and experimentation.
One idiosyncrasy that I am glad to see her outgrow is the use of portmanteau adjectives: "silverblack," "jaggedrough," "yellowbrown," etc. This technique can be used to good effect, but only if done extremely sparingly. Overuse is irritating to the reader and, to me, indicates a dangerous tilt toward laziness of language. It is far easier to make up an adjective in this way than to search out just the right word or phrase.
As the title so aptly implies, this collection is Kiernan's attempt to show, in her own inimitable way, the parade of freaks and the catalog of the fantastic that Charles Hoy Fort dedicated his life to chronicling. Fort explored the edges of reality, the places where the rules we use to define our shared world bend, stretch, and sometimes break.
Kiernan is also comfortable in those places. She is a successor to the traditions of H. P. Lovecraft, another explorer of places beyond reality. But Caitlin R. Kiernan is not satisfied to be a mere follower in Lovecraft's well-worn footsteps. She is an explorer in her own right, a cataloger of the weird and the wonderful, an imaginer of the unimaginable. To Charles Fort, With Love is her own Fortean catalog, a collection of things that sit askew, stretching our acceptance and challenging our perceptions.
In the Author's Preface, "Looking for Innsmouth," Kiernan letss us see how her life is composed of equal parts Fort and Lovecraft. Her excursion into cryptogeography, attempting to find the site of Lovecraft's mythical Innsmouth on the Maine coast, leads Kiernan and her companion to an encounter with something they cannot explain. Their adventure sets the stage for the stories to follow.
In "Valentia," written in July of 1999, Kiernan plays "What if?" with her Irish heritage. What if the legends were true? After all, Schliemann used "The Iliad" to find Troy. Why should the Irish myths be considered any more fictitious than those of the Greeks? How would people react if they found proof? Or even thought they did?
"Spindleshanks (New Orleans, 1956)," from the Spring of 2000, left me disquieted, but also dissatisfied. The story builds an atmosphere of expectation, an increasing feeling that horror is only a heartbeat away, then simply ends. Campbell finds this a suitable way to leave the horror suggested, but unrealized, and thinks this technique is effective. Even though I know I shall be struck by lightning for my hubris, I must disagree. The lack of resolution left me feeling cheated. I feel like there is another chapter to this story that needs to be written. Not explaining the horror is perfectly valid and acceptable, not resolving the story line is not. Not even Caitlin R. Kiernan can be perfect all the time, I guess.
"So Runs the World Away," from August of 2000, explores the world of the unreal. Vampires, ghouls, ghosts, and other inhabitants of this world go through their nightly routines as Dead Girl watches. Like any other young girl, she quickly become bored and risks punishment as she attempts to reconnect to her previous life. After all, these monsters are only human.
"Standing Water," from September, 2000, is an odd story. The inexplicable mystery of the strange pool of water left me thinking about how easy it is for us to forget the strange when it no longer protrudes into our lives.
"La Mer des Reves" (December, 2000) is a fable, a voyage through a reality that shifts and changes, a reality as liquid as the sea. Can anyone really comprehend the strange rules that govern our reality? Is anyone actually in control?
"The Road of Pins" (April, 2001) asks another hard, but vital, question. Given two paths -- both difficult, both painful -- which will you choose? How will you choose?
"Onion" (May, 2001) pokes pinholes through the tattered fabric of reality and lets the characters see what lies beyond. Are these other realities real? What does real mean? How does a person cope with their knowledge of and interaction with other realities? These are questions that people must face sometimes, and the answers are worth considering.
"Apokatastasis" (March, 2002) is a ghost story, which is sort of like saying that a chocolate cake is bread and sugar -- it may be true, but does not come close to encompassing the totality. This story draws on old Celtic tales of black ghost dogs and more modern notions of buried guilt to tell a compelling story that has something new to offer each time you read it. This is a fairly short story with layers beneath layers.
"La Peau Verte" (February, 2003) is an absinthe story. In her Afterword, Kiernan relates how she wrote it under the influence of Mari Mayans absinthe. She also calls this her "most accomplished short story to date." I may not agree completely with that assessment, but "La Peau Verte" is certainly one of the best stories in this particular collection. It is well-written and vivid. This is a modern-day fairy story that is also a very human story of art and magic at the edge of reality.
"The Dead and the Moonstruck" (July, 2003) takes place in the same world as "So Runs the World Away." It is a story of coming of age in a world of death and danger. This story explores the meaning of belonging and being human. Though it was written for an anthology of YA stories, "The Dead and the Moonstruck" has plenty to offer adults, as well.
The Dandridge Cycle is comprised of three stories, written in reverse chronological order, that explore the history of the Dandridge House, built by a man whom many considered mad as a watchtower against the inexplicable forces of the sea. These stories, and most especially "Andromeda Among the Stones," are unabashedly rooted in the Lovecraft Mythos.
"A Redress for Andromeda" (June, 2000) is the earliest written story, but the most recent in terms of the events shown. This story tells of the few who have not forgotten, the few who hold the line against ancient evil and refuse to let the sacrifices of their predecessors be in vain.
"Nor the Demons Down Under the Sea" (August, 2000) explores loneliness and the desperation for human contact that can drive us to do things we either do not want to or should not do.
"Andromeda Among the Stones" (October, 2002) is a tale of madness and sacrifice, of the desire for knowledge and the price that must be paid for that knowledge, of clearly seeing the dangers and the necessities. In my opinion, "Andromeda Among the Stones" is the most moving story in this collection.
To Charles Fort, With Love is definitely worth reading for Caitlin R. Kiernan fans. Though they are rough in spots, the overall quality of the stories in this collection is quite high. The span of time these stories cover and the chronological arrangement also provide an illuminating glimpse into Kiernan's maturation as a writer by providing lampposts along her path through life.
