R.A. MacAvoy, In Between (Subterranean Press, 2009)
I love getting books from Subterranean Press; while I tend to quibble with their cover art, I am more often than not astonished at the writing within. In this case, however, I not only have no quibbles with the final cover art, I am positively delighted with it. Artist Maurizio Manzieri produced a lovely, detailed vision of an Asian man lying on his side as though sleeping -- but he's floating several inches above the mattress! The framing is exotic and oriental, and an excellent match for the book. I hope Subterranean continues to work with Mr. Manzieri, as this cover would definitely make me stop for a closer look while browsing through a bookstore.
In Between opens with a lovely quote from "The Metta Sutta" -- which I initially thought was a misspelling of "sutra" (I was wrong). It's actually a very similar quote to one I have framed and hanging up on my office wall, so this was a great attention-getter for me. It also turns out to be more than a cute quote, but I'll explain that later.
The story opens with Ewen Young, an artist, garnering critical praise at an exhibition of his work -- and then, while walking home, getting attacked by a group of thugs. He manages to turn the encounter into a draw, saving himself from serious injury, and discovers the encounter was intended as a message to his Uncle Jimmy.
I was immediately drawn into each scene by the author's deft hand with details: "Rhododendrons were in their last, brilliant display of red, and somewhere close by star jasmine was scenting the wet breeze. . . . Droplets of rain weighted his hair, causing it to sway with his steps."
The characters are well-developed and came alive quickly for me: "Ewen . . . felt he had done his job by showing up, and now, having actually met Enid Buhl and been told she liked his stuff, he thought it was the perfect time to leave." That single line described an unusual amount of humility for an artist and sets up Ewen's later actions.
Likewise, the "bad guys" are given clear motivations and personalities, and intelligence. As the one man says, while Ewen has him in a half-Nelson: "How're you going to get me to a cop? Use your cell phone? Ask me to stand here while you dial? Just let me go. My leg hurts; you know I can't chase you.'" I found that realistic assessment refreshing, and it's part of what kept me reading with increasing interest.
Of course, once Ewen is clear of the situation, he doesn't call the cops at all; he calls his Uncle Jimmy and allows himself to be talked out of filing an official report. Which might have been a mistake, as it turns out, because soon after that his uncle is dead and Ewen is in deeper trouble by the day -- and weirder trouble than he ever expected, at that.
There are several small scenes in this novel which I found fascinating, and I believe they deserved stronger development. I'll only name one, because part of the charm in any book is not knowing which meanders lead somewhere important. Ewen's initial encounter with the art critic, Enid Buhl, made me think Buhl was going to be a major character. I wanted her to be around a while, because she sounded like a great character and I wanted to get to know her. But after a brief conversation, Buhl is never mentioned again. That can be said of most of the "bit players' in this novel; I see at least a half dozen side stories and characters I'd love to see explored more fully, just from an offhand comment here and there. At a hundred and four pages, this book mainly feels way too damn short for all the great ideas it offers.
One of those great ideas is Ewen's dip into the supernatural side of life, and that is where the opening metta comes in: he's able to create a sacred space in which troubled minds can relax and heal themselves. I found that idea very much in tune with my own beliefs and healing practice; although I've never managed to get anywhere near Ewen's level of skill, I've met people whom I believe could probably handle that task with ease. By the time I reached that part of the story, I was thoroughly hooked by how much of it resonated with my own beliefs and studies, a rare thing for me to find in a fantasy novel.
The only times I felt jarred out of the experience was when the point of view changed from Ewen to the police officers investigating the crime, then to the criminals who were behind the murder of Uncle Jimmy, to a doctor dealing with a troubling patient, to a junkie giving information to the cops, and back around through them all at apparent random. Almost every shift of viewpoint gives the reader valuable information, but after long stretches of watching the world through Ewen's perceptions, several rapid shifts through the worlds of bit players felt dreadfully disorienting.
There are also a couple genuine instances of headhopping which made my inner editor rear up and snarl in annoyance, such as when as an acquaintance visits Ewen late in the book and their conversation is interrupted by one of the police detectives: "Detective Petersen was surprised at the warmth and excitement Ewen showed at his arrival, and wondered if perhaps Ewen Young had not had many visitors. That would have been a shame. . . ." It was more of a shame that these lines snapped me out of the moment.
Later in the book, when the action is moving more rapidly, the above mentioned issues create a slightly ragged feel; but the ending is so smooth that I instantly forgave any rough patches. I was deeply satisfied when I finished the story, and would definitely recommend it, quibbles and all, to anyone interested in art, the supernatural, healing, Buddhism, kung fu, bonsai, and a dozen other threads that weave through this particular tapestry.
Looking up MacAvoy online was more disappointing than the book itself; she's given no interviews I could find a record of, none of her previous books have been reviewed by Green Man Review (although I suspect I'll be searching used bookstores in order to quickly rectify that situation!), and she does not have a Web site that I could find. Wikipedia has basic information such as birthplace (Cleveland, Ohio), birthdate (December 13, 1949), and previous books -- including Tea With The Black Dragon, which was nominated for several awards, including Hugo and Nebula, and won the Campbell Award for Best New Writer.
I suspect I've become a little spoiled of late. So many authors seem to have fascinating Web sites or lists of interviews, blogs, MySpace or FaceBook pages, and so on, that finding such a relative desert of online information is something of a shock to me. I'll just have to console myself by hunting down copies of MacAvoy's older books . . . and keeping an eye out for new ones. Once again, Green Man Review and Subterranean Press have led me to the perfect situation: a 'new' author (at least, a name I hadn't heard of before) with several books already out; thus, an excuse to visit that used bookstore down the street . . . and the pleasant prospect of curling up with coffee and a good book for many nights to come.
