[Duanawitch]

I just finished A Telling...about 30 minutes ago, and don't yet feel quite ready to set down all my thoughts. But I thought I'd begin with a few notes I took while I was reading... I'd be very interested to hear other people's thoughts on the novel, and on the process of its writing. :)

(There may be a few spoilers...but then again, I don't think Caitlin's novel is something you can *spoil* in that way. The pleasure is in travelling with Jaele emotionally; most of the big physical movements in her story are already plotted on the map at the beginning. Apart, from I note, the final stage of her journey, or is that a well-placed sea-snake I spy? :) )

First of all, I have to mention how I read the novel: differently and mostly aloud. I found, almost from the very beginning, that silent reading wasn't tangible enough and that the prose demanded I speak (which resonates nicely with the title of the novel and the story-within-a-story told to the iben-seers). I had to Tell myself, if you like. :o

Second, the sound of the prose felt filled with water...always the long gathering of the wave and then the short crashes of sensation. I liked the way Jaele's memories were like breakers constantly beating on rock: short, sharp and sensory.

Third, the many different modes of memory and remembering; the way memory and time is experienced. One of my favourite parts of the novel was the time spent with the shonyn, who, like the Hopi, have no words for past, present and future, and thus no comprehension of endings. Their way of seeing time was in sharp contrast to Jaele's frantic scrabbling for revenge and the way she was always haunted by that which, for her, had ended. Revenge, in a way, seemed to me an index of her horror of endings. So long as she held onto revenge, the story wasn't ended and her parents weren't really gone...by the end of the novel she has realised that her experiences are in fact constantly parallel in her mind's always-Telling. Her parents remain. She is able to reassess her experiences (all of the many) in the light of this new sense of breadth and multiplicity, timelessness and diversity. (Does that make sense?)

Fourth...I have heard A Telling called a "quiet book". But I didn't feel like I was reading a "quiet" book, far from it. Certainly the prose is melifluous and full of slow, careful detail, with many ripples of repetition, but its also full of excitement and experience. All these different cultures and races made it feel like an experiment in anthropology, whipping across a whole world, so many cultural echoes... and each image extremely vivid, active and involving. The Palace of Yagol and the Keeper spring to mind (possibly my favourite part? I can't decide). So...I'd have to reassess the word "quiet": not the passive kind of quiet, but the full-bodied rich red wine kind of a quiet. IMHO anyway. ;)

At the half-way mark I realised I would have to re-read, just to pick up, savour and catalogue Jaele's many experiences. :) A Telling gives the impression of being a short book, and its only when you look back that you realise how *much* happens, which is a strength in and of itself. In the end the emotional thread was the most important for me...and I still haven't quite come to terms with it, not enough to write...especially the ending (the final confrontation...the return...the Telling under the barrow). I'll have to consider that at length later. :)

And now I have to control my Amazon-order-clicking finger and resist the prequel for a few weeks at least.

[Caitlin]

Wow. There you have it, Duanawitch: the most articulate monosyllable I could muster after reading your response to Telling. :)

When I was 14, I wrote a long letter to Lloyd Alexander (my once and future hero :)). It was really, really long; I think I mentioned every character, and why he or she had particularly moved me. He wrote back (as he would three more times over the years; the last time in reply to my having sent him a copy of Telling). In that first letter he wrote, "All of the books and characters, at one level or another, have very close and meaningful personal connections, which is why I'm so pleased to know that you've understood them so well." This was a response to a young reader - but it really does say what I want to say now. Telling was an intensely personal (private, in fact, for many years) book. Alison mentioned in the "Writing and Family" thread that her depictions of characters and their relationships are often based on real ones - and this was very, very true of Telling, for me. So I'm deeply gratified that you thought about Jaele's reactions and her slow transformation, and that they touched you.

Possibly the most exciting thing you mentioned was that you read much of the book aloud. I did too, the whole time I was writing it (something I didn't do nearly as much with my second book). I think I was partly trying to get a feel for the new kind of language I was using - but I also had the sense that the words needed to be spoken before they could be made solid on the page. Or something! In any case: how wonderful that you got to add your own layer of Telling to all the others! :)

You ask whether your "She is able to reassess her experiences (all of the many) in the light of this new sense of breadth and multiplicity, timelessness and diversity" makes sense. A resounding, grateful YES! from me.

Please ask more questions, give more responses (especially about the ending, which you mention you haven't processed quite enough to write about). I can't wait...

(Oh, and by the way: you'll get a lot more of the shonyn in Silences! ;))

[Miriamele]

I too have just completed A Telling of Stars, this afternoon. One word is floating around in my head the most: beautiful. Jaele's story, and especially the prose in which it is written, is very beautiful. I haven't read such a throroughly lovely book in a long time, and I was a bit sad when I reached the last page (although perhaps the last few pages were the most delicious of all).

A few thoughts:
I can't stress enough how much I enjoyed Caitlin's prose. It was at once utterly sparse and beautifully lyrical. What economy of language! I've mentioned in another thread that Caitlin's prose reminded me of Guy Kay. But even Kay doesn't pare down his language so much. I was very impressed with the way Caitlin managed to convey sharp images and worlds of meaning with only a few well placed words.

I found it refreshing, after reading so much epic fantasy, to read a book which chronicled the journey of only one person. I think that narrowing the focus of the story to one POV makes it all the more compelling and poignant. Soon into the book I began to care deeply for Jaele and for the friends she meets on her journey.

Nossi's death was DEVASTATING for me. What a shocker. I was so upset after reading that scene that I almost couldn't go on.

Actually just about everything after that point in the book surprised me. A strength of the book is its unpredictability. Everything I figured would happen, didn't. In this unpredictability it had a feeling of real life despite the "fabular" nature of so much of the book.

Which brings me to another point: Caitlin has formidable powers of imagination. Starfish that juggle shells! Birds that spin webs of silk! An entire orchard of fruit trees underground! And so much more...from beginning to end Telling is filled with descriptions of things and places that made me say, "hey, that's so cool..."

Probably the biggest surprise for me was that Dorin didn't reappear by the end of the book. But I wasn't too disappointed; he seemed like a bit of a schmuck. :) Anyway, the book wasn't about him, it was about Jaele and how she grows through her experiences. Saying goodbye to Dorin was one of the ways in which she grew more reliant on her own strength and less on others. (If I was disappointed in anything it was that Jaele left Serdic. He seemed like such a kind and decent fellow. But maybe she'll see him again?...)

The ending of the book, in which Jaele comes to see that she is never alone, that her family and indeed all those she has loved are always present in her heart and her memories, was breathtaking. A fitting finale for an emotionally powerful book.

Can you tell yet that I liked it, Caitlin? Great job! I can't wait to read Silences--I have it on hold right now at the public library! :)

[Caitlin]

And now thank you, Miriamele!

You referred to the story's unpredictability and how it reminded you of real life - this is precisely the feeling I was attempting to capture in the book. Several readers have mentioned that all the apparent coincidences were too pat and convenient - but I maintain that our lives are full of such coincidences, large and small (chaos theory in action, perhaps?). Ever dream about someone you haven't seen in years and get a phone call from them the same day? Or maybe you (like me) know someone who married someone from their home town - someone they met for the first time on a tour in Greece. Etc.

Here's a first-draft admission: I did start out having Jaele meet Dorin again at the end of the book. Remember that dream she has about him when she's in Fane, after returning from the Raiders' Land? Well, in the first draft that wasn't a dream: he was there; he'd found her (since, after all, he'd known where she was going). Much as I loved this section, it didn't feel right. It didn't feel real. So many things in our lives don't get "finished" - especially when it comes to relationships. I don't think many people achieve that elusive sense of closure - that "well thank goodness we had that one more conversation that made everything clear." So I took Dorin out, and was much, much more comfortable (if a bit sadder) with the result.

I'm sorry Nossi's death upset you. Some more background trivia for you: Nossi was based on my best friend, who died of cancer at age 30 (when I was revising the novel for my agent). The unsettling thing was that she hadn't even been sick when I wrote Nossi. Ilario was based on another friend who died, also at age 30. Not that you need to know this, of course - but it might make it clearer still that this particular book is full of characters based on dear, dear people in my own life.

As for Serdic...he's modelled on a young man I treated very, very badly in university! And I can tell you that although Jaele's future isn't going to be written, my own Serdic is, after many years, a friend. Something for which I'm incredibly grateful (and which I really don't deserve).

I hope you get to Silences soon! Have I mentioned yet that it's very, very different from Telling? ;)

[Miriamele]

Yes you have mentioned that it's different, but I can't imagine it's in a bad way. :)

I found Nossi's death so hard to read about because you had made her character so absolutely vibrant, full of life and laughter and fire and dance. What really stuck in my mind was the way you kept describing Nossi's hair--braided, then unbound, flowing everywhere, then braided again. Then unbound again. It added a great deal to the youthfulness and playfulness of Nossi's character. Then finally when she is dying in the flames, I was thinking, "Oh my god, all her hair is going to go up like tinder, she can't possibly survive..." And of course there's the fact that she was newly pregnant and reconciled with her lover. A terrible tragedy.

But, however upsetting that scene was I understand it was necessary. Jaele's story is about coping with loss more than anything else, right? So it is fitting that she should lose her new friend.

Another thing, I liked the irony of having Nossi dying by fire after all her boasting talk of her fire goddess (can't quite remember her name). It was a nice touch.

[KatG]

Well now I've read it too, and it is indeed buootiful, dreamy and lyrical. I'm really not sure, at this point, whether to encourage you to tackle the thorny landscape of genre fantasy or urge you to team up with Mr. Bakker and storm the Canadian literary mafia. But from the sound of your other works, genre fantasy is not an inappropriate home and we certainly need you.

The story has an Eastern flavor, not just because of some desert settings, but the poetic style and the way you did the different peoples. It is partly reminiscient of Beagle's "The Last Unicorn," some of Tanith Lee's stories (nice to have a quote from her for you,) and other more fable-like works of fantasy. It is not at all slow-paced and packed with plot events, but very much centered on the interior, the emotional and description of the senses, which I'm sure is quite confusing to fanboys used to sprawling battle stories and action adventures more concerned with armor. :) In fact, I giggled at the beginning of the story, because another writer, say a Tad Williams or a Robert Jordan, likely would have spent a good 100 pages documenting Jaele's life by the sea before anything tragic happened, whereas you of course plunge us right in.

I had sort of the opposite reaction to you Miri, in that I knew exactly what was going to happen in the story. But knowing what would happen did not mean that I knew at all how it would happen or what the effect would be on the walls with which Jaele had trapped herself and the relationships she allowed to develop through the cracks, or her desperate need to be not alone and reclaim what she'd lost. At times I was impatient with Jaele, which I think Caitlin intends to happen, but the changes in her thinking were fascinating to watch -- the stages of grief, the opening up to different kinds of love, the appreciation of small, simple things and the rendering of ordinary bodily sensations into emotional meaning, and above all, of course, the use of language. Powerful, powerful, powerful.

I think that this is also a novel in which readers will fall in love with different characters. For me, it was Ilario -- full of vitality yet the one most intimately dealing with death, but then I like grumpy, scholarly cranks -- and the Sea Raider, a masterful creation throughout. Dorian was not a schmuck to me, but a soul who could not bear the pain of others, but kept trying to from love. I agree it would have been awful to have him show up in Fane -- it would not have made sense -- and I'm glad you resisted the temptation, Caitlin. DW's likening the novel to a rich, red wine sounds very right to me, though I was thinking more in terms of chocolate :), but the idea's the same -- the richness of the story, its fantasy elements and its characters.

My one small quibble was with the shonyn and their not having a concept of past, present, future, because they would not understand Jaele's references to time, yet would then use a time reference of their own. But this didn't seem so much a flaw as a bit of confusion in that our understanding of their language and culture seemed to be kept underdeveloped in the story. So I'll be interested in what you do with them and the iben in the prequel. I can understand that the action and emotional, thematic focus are probably quite different in that book, but I'll be curious to see how different the language style becomes.

I know that you don't have much time for reading other authors, Caitlin, but I think, after reading Telling, that you might like Kij Johnson's "The Fox Woman" a good deal and it might make you feel less alone in the fantasy forest.

In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed it and would also love to know more about how you came to write the book.

[Caitlin]

Another wonderful, thoughtful, thought-provoking (for me, at least) response to Telling: thank you, KatG!

The shonyn...I found it really, really difficult to write the shonyn/human interactions, and this brought home to me how vital linear time descriptions are to (English-language, anyway) narrative. It's hard to get around them, even when the story demands it - so I hoped my readers would be forgiving. I do indeed get "inside" the shonyn much, much more deeply in Silences. I'll be curious to see, KatG, what you think about this more in-depth view.

As with most of Jaele's stops, her time with the shonyn is single-faceted. She never gets inside the minds of the people and creatures she meets - consequently, her conversations with them have a parallel, layered quality. This can be terribly frustrating for readers: it's a limited, limiting view. But I needed it to be that way, and I both understand and accept the frustration!

I'm very glad that Ilario was your favouite character - for the personal reasons I've already mentioned, and for professional ones too. He started out as a real person I loved very much, but I seem to have been able to give him a life of his own, as Ilario - and the fact that he has affected people has been one of the greatest joys of having the book "out there."

As to your closing statement: what exactly would you like to know about the writing of the book? I'll be happy to go on and on about it, whatever it is. :)

[Caitlin]

And as for the book being likened to red wine and chocolate...

:D :) :D

Must go obtain both of the above (am very suggestible).

[Miriamele]

Mmm, chocolate..... :) :)

Speaking of food, Caitlin, are you a vegetarian? I couldn't help noticing that in Telling much mention is made of various vegetables, greens, and fruit, as well as fresh bread (and it all sounds delicious!), and then there is fish, but Jaele nor any of the others in her world seem to eat meat. Maybe I'm remembering wrong, but I don't recall any mention of livestock at all. Was this deliberate? Is there some significance to the fruit in the story (the shonyn's lyanen, Serdic's sourfruit)?

I'm curious because in most fantasy worlds cheese and meat are staples of the diet, but your world is filled with fruits and veggies. (Maybe it's just a male/female writer thing?) :)

[Caitlin]

Busted! ;)

OK, yes, I admit: my family and I are what we term "pescaterians" - meaning eaters of fish but no other meat. BUT this began in 1997 - a full six years after I started writing Telling (which I actually finished in in '97). A bit odd, that...Except that, again, I was attempting to write a fantasy that wouldn't resemble much of what I was reading at the time. So the mutton-and-ale repasts most often featured in genre books just weren't going to make it into mine - at least that's what I think I was thinking!

You'll probably remember that meat is featured in Fane, in its own market. This market was based on those we saw (and smelled!) while we were living in Mexico. During the seven months we were there, we never, ever cooked meat at home, though we did occasionally eat it at restaurants - so again, even though we didn't stop eating meat until two years later, the process had obviously begun without our even knowing it.

You, Miriamele, win some sort of reader astuteness award!

As to whether there's a significance to the particular kinds of fruit in the story: the shonyn were "finders, not seekers" and therefore wouldn't be hunters. Fruit made the most sense as the staple of their diet. And Serdic, that gentle, patient guy, just had to be an orchard-tender. I could only imagine him among trees.

I wonder if any of this has been coherent. There I was, ready to go up to bed... :)