January '05 BOTM: The Etched City by K.J. Bishop

[Erfael]

Discuss please.

[Rob B]

Quote from my review to start off my thoughts:

Originally Posted by Fitz/Rob

These questions of reality and our place in the world are at the core of speculative fiction. Throughout The Etched City, Bishop uses this ideal as a tool very effectively, invoking numerous ways through the eyes of her characters, in which we can question their world, and in turn, our own reality. This is not to say the novel is entirely concerned with philosophy, for Bishop has a knack for writing philosophical debates as well as bloody battles. The physical interactions and fights were as stimulating as the philosophical debates.

I think there was some good misdirection going on here, too. When I felt comfortable with where the story was going, something would crop up and I'd feel unsettled. A good sort of unsettled, mind you, as good writers don't allow their readers to feel too too comfortable.

[Prunesquallor]

I haven't participated in one of these before, so I have questions -
How does the discussion proceed? Fitz's comments, for example, were quite general. Is this on purpose, out of considerations for other readers? Do we read the whole thing or comment along the way? Are we discussing this as readers/writers/both? Sorry....

Regarding the book, I've gotten through part one, and am enjoying it quite a bit. I thought the opening was very good. The place, characters and situation are interesting and adequately developed, and quickly acquire a familiar feel though there are a lot of interesting questions to be asked.

EDIT: ok, one nit to pick: there was the one scene early on where Raule rests - her eyes but not ears close, and then she is counting ants as they go by. Maybe is it is a hint, or (more likely) an author's slip. It seems an odd slip though, and it distracted me.

2nd edit: I did like the heroes being undone by their heroic nature

[Erfael]

Prune,

As far as the discussion here goes, it's a free-for-all. Spoilers abound in the botm threads. If you're not finished and you don't want anything spoiled, you may want to beware, as anything is fair game here. And speak as a reader, a writer, an editor, anything you like. Some people read all the way before commenting. Some people read the comments and then the book.

Speaking of which, I need to get my thoughts together on this one and do some posting.....

[FicusFan]

Well I have finished the book. I enjoyed it, but can't for the life of me come up with anything coherent to say about what the story meant or was trying to say.

Coming so soon after another literary book (The Light Ages) I was expecting another torturous slog. Supprisingly I really liked the writing. It was literary but also full of life and I enjoyed the characters and the fact that the story moved on. Every time I picked it up I was surprised all over again at how much I liked it.

I was not expecting a skewed western. That was very interesting, as was the fact that the city with its water and humidity was almost the exact opposite of the burning desert.

I liked Gwynn very much. He was both mysterious and substantial. So often mysterious characters are barely sketched in. Though I would have like more details about his transgression and ejection from the northern society.

I liked Raule less. She seemed to be a hypocrit. She wanted the fame, glory, and excitement of being a rebel and a criminal and then disdained the methods used to be that. She was fine with killing people to save her life, and then she treated Gwynn like he was dirt, yet he did the same thing she did.

I was kind of bored with the religious debate between Gwynn and the Priest, except where Gwynn said it seemed god was winnowing the meek, and he wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley. I liked that. I found the ending with the redemption of the priest, and his sacrifice to bring Gywnn back a messianic cliche.

I wonder if the author was trying to talk about love and its impact because there were so many examples: the Priest and his god, the Priest and his whores, Marriot's unrequited love for Tareda, the father and son crime duo, Elm and Elei and father/son love, Colonel Bright and his love for a colonial military fantasy, Beth and Gywnn who were so fascinated with each other they couldn't admit to love, and Raule and her dead babies - which seemed to me to represent not only the decay and evil of the city, but what she thought was inside herself, because she had no real feelings of conscience.

I also thought Beth's art was important but I am not sure exactly what Bishop was trying to say with it. So much of it was monsterous and it seemed that maybe Beth was also expressing the soul of the city to mirror the actual dead babies that Raule was delivering. Not really sure other than that.

So I enjoyed it, other than a few things I mentioned, but am not really sure I understand it, or know what the hell it is about.

[Erfael]

Another thing that I seemed to almost notice (it was tickling at the back of my mind, without ever really coming together for me) was that all of the characters seemed to be missing something. (some of this is just guesswork as it never really gelled for me. I think it might in a second reading of some sections, but haven't had a chance to do so.) For Raule it was her conscience, for the priest his former ability to heal, for Gwynn it was the ability to truly love (did Gwynn really love Beth? I got the impression that though he might want to love her, it just wasn't there in him somehow). I don't really have a clear idea on the other characters, but it's just something that tickled me on the way through.

I also have to say I didn't have a very clear idea of what the book was trying to do, though I enjoyed it throughout.

There also seemed to be some focus on metamorphosis or fundamental change, with Beth and the sphinx as the most obvious, but also with R&G. either successful or unsuccessful. For Gwynn and Raule, the city struck me as their cocoon, where they came to spend time before being spat back out into the Copper Country as different people. Other examples that come to mind are the wife to the axe, the priest's redemption, the dead babies, half-changed.

Did anyone get a nice-guy vibe off of Gwynn? I felt like he was a nice guy so much of the time that it was very jarring when he would do something cold and heartless.

That's an interesting point about the soul of the city, Ficus, but I never got any impression that the city was especially twisted or corrupt, unless we talk about the slave trade, which in its presentation didn't even seem to be cast in an especially bad light.

[Prunesquallor]

I am now about half way through, and am less enchanted with the second section that I was with the first. The interesting thread of the story at this point seems more like a frayed rope, the characters are developing slowly, some of the descriptive stuff seems to exist for its own sake. Still enjoying it though

Did anyone get a nice-guy vibe off of Gwynn? I felt like he was a nice guy so much of the time that it was very jarring when he would do something cold and heartless.

not especially. More like a good in his way (trustworthy, etc) guy, rather than nice

I liked Raule less. She seemed to be a hypocrit. She wanted the fame, glory, and excitement of being a rebel and a criminal

I didn't get that - I thought it was pretty clear she fought with the rebels for idealistic reasons. if she wanted those things, why the work for the poor?

she treated Gwynn like he was dirt, yet he did the same thing she did.

I think their occupations were quite different, and this was the source of the disdain

more to come.......

btw, thanks Erfael

[FicusFan]

Originally Posted by Erfael

Another thing that I seemed to almost notice (it was tickling at the back of my mind, without ever really coming together for me) was that all of the characters seemed to be missing something. (some of this is just guesswork as it never really gelled for me. I think it might in a second reading of some sections, but haven't had a chance to do so.) For Raule it was her conscience, for the priest his former ability to heal, for Gwynn it was the ability to truly love (did Gwynn really love Beth? I got the impression that though he might want to love her, it just wasn't there in him somehow). I don't really have a clear idea on the other characters, but it's just something that tickled me on the way through.

I also have to say I didn't have a very clear idea of what the book was trying to do, though I enjoyed it throughout.

There also seemed to be some focus on metamorphosis or fundamental change, with Beth and the sphinx as the most obvious, but also with R&G. either successful or unsuccessful. For Gwynn and Raule, the city struck me as their cocoon, where they came to spend time before being spat back out into the Copper Country as different people. Other examples that come to mind are the wife to the axe, the priest's redemption, the dead babies, half-changed.

Did anyone get a nice-guy vibe off of Gwynn? I felt like he was a nice guy so much of the time that it was very jarring when he would do something cold and heartless.

That's an interesting point about the soul of the city, Ficus, but I never got any impression that the city was especially twisted or corrupt, unless we talk about the slave trade, which in its presentation didn't even seem to be cast in an especially bad light.

Well I thought the city was described as being rank and decaying, with the heat and the damp. The buildings were falling apart, and the greenery had run amok. The river that ran through it was dirty, and full of crocs, sewage, trash and corpses. The people who lived in the section where the story takes place are the poor, the faded and the crazy. They are either victims or perps. Nobody cares if there are murders in the street or in the bars. In fact there can be oraganized fights to the death for two, or an entire cavalry charge and nobody cares. The slave trade is openly conducted and it seems the only thing the city officials are upset about is losing the taxes on them. The city also seems to feed off the war and the misery of both sides. The medical guild has no interest in accepting deserving students and those who want to learn, but is rather dedicated to making money and observing social rank. Their members also don't help or work in the hospitals and medical establishments that deal with the poor. There is a drug dealer who sells not only escape but poisons and right out of his own home. Then there are the dead babies and the monsters born alive but who die or are quickly killed. In our world that would mean some kind of toxin, in theirs I think it means that the magical energies are out of sync. So to me it all added up to a city that is depraved and corrupt.

No I never thought Gwynn was a nice guy, just that he didn't have any problems with being bad and so was not always trying to hide it, make excuses for it, or put a positive spin on it. He also struck me as someone who had limits to what he would do, but they were much farther into bad than most people will go.

I think you are onto something Erf, with the idea of transformations because there was a lot of that going on, and even the drug dealer guy was selling short-term transformations, as was the seance.

I don't know if Beth & Gwynn loved each other or not, but it seemed to me they wanted to on some level but were too busy with their own hang-ups to take it seriously, and spend the time they needed to work it out. it seemed that their hearts and their bodies were almost in love, but then their minds would kick in and spoil it. It may also be that neither was really able to love so they just had to fake a close approximation.

Perhaps Gwynn and Beth need each other to transform. Beth's art changed because of him, and he ended up swallowing her hair to keep her as a part of him.

[Rob B]

RE: transformations - I got a sense one of the over-reaching themes of the novel was change and a sense of movement, not much really seemed static about the novel. The characters changed, the settings changed and people did transform.

[Prunesquallor]

The cocoon business (and the lobotomy stuff as well) does seem to suggest something about fundamental change, but I don’t see any of that sort of change in the book, other than perhaps Beth (and possibly Raule, insofar as she becomes less idealistic). And the stillborn croc-thing, which was supposed to bring change, works against this understanding doesn't it?

I think it is more about how people enter and influence each others lives for a time, how in a sense we live in our own world, one which intersects with others. The key here is the philosophical theory that is mentioned twice - first as the product of a dispute between two philosophers (after having a quarrel they never seem to see each other again despite living near each other) and the second time by Beth.

Consider the interesting intersections between these lives (and how often this involves one saving or destroying someone):
Raule and Gwynn,
Gwynn and Marriott,
Gwynn and the Rev,
the Rev and God,
Beth and Gwynn,
Gwnn and those who "do business" with him, such as the strongman

even the lesser characters:
the two coshboys fighting it out
Pearl and her murderer
Marriott and the boy he has a fight with

Consider how the paths of their lives converge, affect others, and diverge, how just having Beth around G’s friends seems to change them.

I think Beth’s etchings (at least at one point, I think the second set) are depictions of Gwynn from the perspective of those he has “done business with”, how he entered and changed their lives, who he was in their world.

I think this book had potentional to be the sort of book you close and go "wow", but missed the mark. Though it was still interesting and well written and at parts beautiful.

[Kirsten Bishop]

Hello all, and thank you for your comments. As I said to Rob, it's an honour to be the specimen on the slab.

Prunesquallor - where were you when I was proofreading? This book has been checked over a lot of times, and that thing with the eyes shut still slipped past! I've added it to the list of little fixes for the mass market edition. Thank you!
I like your interpretation of Beth's later etchings; your idea is different from what I had in mind, but it works.

Ficus Fan - As I saw it, Beth's art was a kind of magic. (That's why, in the end, the nameplate on her door changes from 'Engraver' to 'Thaumaturge'). There's always been a ritualistic, shamanic aspect to art. Through making representations of strange imaginary things, she's trying to effect a change in her world - or, perhaps, just a change in herself, which in this book means a change in her world too.
I might have to argue about the messianic cliche. The Rev wanted to save Gwynn's soul; he ended up saving his life, which wasn't really the point... well, that's how I saw it, anyway

Erfael - yeah, absolutely, all the characters are missing something / looking for something. One of the things I wanted to do in the book was explore the idea of exile - physical, social, spiritual. I think they're all experiencing a sense of exile in various ways.
I think there's definitely a case for Gwynn having a nice-guy vibe. To me, in a way Gwynn was an exaggerated version of the ordinary person who, say, works for a company that employs sweatshop labour, or who drives a gas-guzzling car, or does any of the ordinary things we do that ultimately have negative consequences. Gwynn just happens to commit his wrongful acts in a direct, conscious way - without having hangups about it, as Ficus Fan says. From another direction, Gwynn is also the archetypal Byronic man-in-black; I wanted to take that character and imagine what he might be like in his off hours. I'm sure I was inspired by Vince and Jules in Pulp Fiction - pleasant, interesting guys except for when they're 'in character'.

In general, about Gwynn and Beth - how much they love each other is, I think, wide open to interpretation. As I see it, Gwynn is, to Beth, a sort of demon lover, a male muse. Demon lovers can be inspiring, but they can also be deadening, if you get obsessed with them. It all started for me with the 19th century Symbolists and Decadents, among whom there were male writers and painters who had strange, neurotic ideas about women; woman was the muse, but also the femme fatale, the ever-mysterious and dangerous sphinx, and ultimately she had to be killed, turned into an 'exquisite corpse', or she would, you know, devour the poor male. So I wanted to make the sphinx herself into an artist, and turn the tables to some degree, to show a two-sided relationship.

There's really no one way to read the book, either. There isn't really any 'what it all means', any more than there is in life. The best I can say is that the story means different things from the perspectives of the different characters. I hope I don't sound like a pompous fraud....

[Eventine]

Thanks for visiting Kirsten.
I meant to reread this book before commenting in the book club ( I read it about halfway through last year), but now that we're being visited by the author I thought I'd make a few brief comments.

At the time of reading the book I posted this:

The blurb pigeon holes it in the "New Weird" and I wouldn't argue. It's very reminiscent of Mieville at times in that we're not handed a pre formatted fantasy plot where we know pretty much how it'll end after the first 50 pages (good guy defeats bad guy and wins girl). Instead, it's a character piece that leaves you wondering not only what's going to happen but what the book is actually about. One of the more interesting reads of the year so far.

I couldn't work out while reading the book if the symbolism was mostly over my head, or if I wasn't supposed to be "getting" anything. From what you've said Kirsten, it seems that seeing as I enjoyed it there's no issue.

One thing I really remember was reading the last page and being struck at how strange (and I mean that in a good way) the ending was. It left me scratching my head and wondering. The coincidence involved struck me as meaningful but I just couldn't put my finger on why.

I'll comment some more once I've knocked over Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell - I recall seeing some comments by Kirsten in an interview (or maybe at the Nightshade boards?) about alchemical references and symbology which wasn't something I'd picked up on my first reading but would like to discuss further.

(BTW I like the Vince and Jules example)

[Rob B]

First off, thanks for stopping by Kirsten!

Originally Posted by Kirsten Bishop

Hello all, and thank you for your comments. As I said to Rob, it's an honour to be the specimen on the slab.

Ficus Fan - As I saw it, Beth's art was a kind of magic. (That's why, in the end, the nameplate on her door changes from 'Engraver' to 'Thaumaturge'). There's always been a ritualistic, shamanic aspect to art. Through making representations of strange imaginary things, she's trying to effect a change in her world - or, perhaps, just a change in herself, which in this book means a change in her world too.
I might have to argue about the messianic cliche. The Rev wanted to save Gwynn's soul; he ended up saving his life, which wasn't really the point... well, that's how I saw it, anyway

Something I indicated in my review about Beth, that really stuck out to me, is her name. Beth is a name we can come across fairly regularly, but all the other characters have more odd/weird names. I don't know that any of us have come across a Gwynn or Raule. Le Guin is a writer who always invested a lot of power in names and here, Beth with the most "mundane" name has control over such an abstract thing as art and magic.

Originally Posted by Kirsten Bishop

I think there's definitely a case for Gwynn having a nice-guy vibe. To me, in a way Gwynn was an exaggerated version of the ordinary person who, say, works for a company that employs sweatshop labour, or who drives a gas-guzzling car, or does any of the ordinary things we do that ultimately have negative consequences. Gwynn just happens to commit his wrongful acts in a direct, conscious way - without having hangups about it, as Ficus Fan says. From another direction, Gwynn is also the archetypal Byronic man-in-black; I wanted to take that character and imagine what he might be like in his off hours. I'm sure I was inspired by Vince and Jules in Pulp Fiction - pleasant, interesting guys except for when they're 'in character'.

Now that you mention Pulp Fiction I can see a similarity. After all death dealers of all sorts need to eat and discuss their Hamburgers or Royals with cheese don't they? As in Pulp Fiction I kind have the same vibe in that some things are out of the realm of the ordinary, even for characters who deal in unordinary things.

Originally Posted by Kirsten Bishop

In general, about Gwynn and Beth - how much they love each other is, I think, wide open to interpretation. As I see it, Gwynn is, to Beth, a sort of demon lover, a male muse. Demon lovers can be inspiring, but they can also be deadening, if you get obsessed with them. It all started for me with the 19th century Symbolists and Decadents, among whom there were male writers and painters who had strange, neurotic ideas about women; woman was the muse, but also the femme fatale, the ever-mysterious and dangerous sphinx, and ultimately she had to be killed, turned into an 'exquisite corpse', or she would, you know, devour the poor male. So I wanted to make the sphinx herself into an artist, and turn the tables to some degree, to show a two-sided relationship.

Are you saying Beth is like a succubus? I think they used each other to an extent and their "love" as it were had a more business-like and callous feel to it.

Originally Posted by Kirsten Bishop

I hope I don't sound like a pompous fraud....

Not at all!
-Fitz/Rob

[FicusFan]

Originally Posted by Fitz

First off, thanks for stopping by Kirsten! Something I indicated in my review about Beth, that really stuck out to me, is her name. Beth is a name we can come across fairly regularly, but all the other characters have more odd/weird names. I don't know that any of us have come across a Gwynn or Raule. Le Guin is a writer who always invested a lot of power in names and here, Beth with the most "mundane" name has control over such an abstract thing as art and magic.


Now that you mention Pulp Fiction I can see a similarity. After all death dealers of all sorts need to eat and discuss their Hamburgers or Royals with cheese don't they? As in Pulp Fiction I kind have the same vibe in that some things are out of the realm of the ordinary, even for characters who deal in unordinary things.

Are you saying Beth is like a succubus? I think they used each other to an extent and their "love" as it were had a more business-like and callous feel to it.

Not at all!
-Fitz/Rob

Well I have to disagree with you about a couple of things Fitz:

I would argue that Beth, while a name we are likely to find in everyday use, is not mundane. It fools you into thinking it is ordinary, but then it leaves you with a sense of a deep calm pool in the forest with lots of magic and mystery hidden in it. At least that is the after-image I have always had of 'Beth'. I went to grade school with a cool Beth . I looked on the Web and Beth (besides being a diminutive of Elizabeth in English) means House of God, and Life in other languages. I seem to remember Peace from somewhere but can't find it now. I also think I was solicited to join a cult on one of the sites.

I also don't think that anything in the novel had a 'callous' feel to it. In fact the whole thing was very vibrant and you could almost feel the characters and the situations resonating within yourself. Nothing seemed to be covered over or hardened with calluses. Even the murders that were committed or ordered were very personal and full of feeling (shredding their hands and throwing living people weighted with cement into a deep swamp - its almost enough to make the killers run screaming in terror).

Now that I think about it -- there was a thing with hands. The people who Elm orderd killed always had their hands shredded or cut off. Was there a reason for that Kirsten ?

In terms of Beth and Art, no I completely missed that her nameplate changed. And I wouldn't have considered art to be magic - anymore than I would think a mirror or a camera could steal your soul , so I missed that entirely.

I never saw Pulp Fiction so I can't comment on the similarity.

[Erfael]

Originally Posted by FicusFan

Now that I think about it -- there was a thing with hands. The people who Elm orderd killed always had their hands shredded or cut off. Was there a reason for that Kirsten ?

Actually, not all of them were hands. They were whatever body part did the offense. So for Hart, his wife lost her tongue because he talked. Marriott lost his hands because he touched, if I recall correctly.