Here we begin with Randy’s first review of the month.
Outside [the car] stretched an expanse of rock flensed of any vegetation, even moss or lichen. Wind-carved snow formed waves beneath craggy overhangs; ice bridges spanned crevasses and slabs of stone smooth and sheer as though planed by infernal machinery. Frozen waterfalls cascaded from spars of rock the color of a scorched rose.
For as far as I could see, in every direction, we were the only living things.
On the landscape miles outside Reykjavík, Iceland
Sequel to Hand’s 2007 novel, Generation Loss, Available Dark continues the story of Cassandra Neary. As a young woman Cass was part of the New York City punk scene around CBGB and Club 82, making her way as a photographer, creating a photographic chronicle of the era published as Dead Girls. That was Cass’ moment. Afterward inspiration dissipated as she lost her lover to prison and indulged in alcohol and drugs, and she led a hand-to-mouth existence barely hanging onto a rent-controlled apartment in a rapidly gentrifying section of the city.
In the wake of events in Generation Loss, Neary is uncomfortable at home, wondering if the police will bring her in for questioning. But publicity from those events included the appearance in Stern of one of her photos; that and the underground reputation of Dead Girls lead both to her former lover contacting her through a letter postmarked Iceland, and an offer of a job from the owner of a club in Oslo, Norway. The club owner, Anton Bredahl has very specific and outré tastes, including collecting photographs of the dead and wants her expertise to determine the legitimacy of a purchase he hopes to make. Neary isn’t unaware of such tastes and given the subject matter of her book, isn’t unsympathetic, and as usual she needs money. Still, she’s wary of the offer until a link to an on-line sample stuns her: She recognizes the work of Ilkka Kaltunnen, formerly a fashion photographer prone to weird and disturbing imagery even in his fashion shoots.
Terms arranged, part of the payment made in advance, Neary flies to Norway, examines the photos and determines they are real. Skipping dinner with Bredahl and Kaltunnen, she flies to Iceland to find her lost lover, Quinn, only to learn shortly after landing that Kaltunnen and his secretary have been murdered.
Neary as narrator is candid about herself, forthcoming and unrepentant concerning her addictions, suspicious of the motives of others while admitting her own motives, many of which are not admirable; she is an understandable if not exactly sympathetic protagonist, an anti-hero who may do the right thing, but not always by design. One feature of her personality makes her especially intriguing, her obsession with and knowledge of pre-digital age photography and its practitioners. Much of Neary’s descriptions are conveyed as though seen through a viewfinder, framed and lighted just so, colors and textures noted, with attention to composition. Her eye for this is a factor in her hiring, but also something more as the novel proceeds, Hand tying Neary’s skills and insights into the mythology of Northern Europe.
Establishing her essentially noir premise and setting, Hand taps into the genre’s disgust with and distrust of the rich and powerful – Iceland was hit hard by the recession, explaining Reykjavík’s unfinished construction, closed businesses and aura of despair – and her writing rises to not-quite Chandlerian levels of analogy as when describing Ilkka’s house, “Upstairs was the tightly wound superego; the darkroom was like entering his reptilian forebrain” or when looking for Quinn in dives, “Viva Las Vegas was an overheated casino bar where the morning gamblers clutched slot machines so avidly it looked like they were having sex with them.” Throughout Hand’s descriptions are notable for their precision, photographic clarity and, frequently, the caustic humor underlying Neary’s observations.
Neary, trying not to panic and maintaining her cool mainly with drugs and alcohol, narrowly dodges being caught in Reykjavík, meanwhile learning more of the context of the disturbing photographs she had seen at Ilkka’s house. She’s certain the killer is after her and while she tries to understand the full scope of her situation, Hand introduces black metal music, Norse mythology, the Kalevala, the Jólasveinar and the people who have adopted the old religions, weaving them together to feed a thread of the supernatural that adds to the suspense and underscores the mindsets capable of the brutality Neary witnesses. Hand even nods to J. R. R. Tolkein, himself influenced by the myths and legends of Northern Europe: The Return of the King is a constant companion of Quinn, and maybe an indication of Hand’s regard for her protagonist since Neary has made a journey into a volcanic wasteland overlaid by ice and cold, her own personal Mordor.
Like Generation Loss, Available Dark isn’t really a horror novel, but the darkness of the material and Hand’s affiliation with dark fantasy makes it of associational interest. It almost seems too obvious to recommend both novels to anyone who enjoyed The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson; frankly, Neary is more plausible than Lizbeth Salander, and Hand’s writing is smoother and tighter. Less obvious, anyone who enjoyed Adam Nevill’s The Ritual might find this blend of old world myths and legends with a story of survival in a harsh and unforgiving landscape of similar, if less supernatural interest.
AVAILABLE DARK by Elizabeth Hand
(Minotaur Books; 2013)
ISBN: 978-0312585945
256 pages
Review by Randy Money
