Skip to main content

Richo Reviews: The Narrator, Michael Cisco (2015, Lazy Fascist Press)

 An army is a horror. It's a horrible thing. They say you might change your mind about that when the country is invaded and your people are suffering wrong, but for me this is all just more horror, more army-horror.

 Cisco wastes no time in getting to the punch with this novel, and this searing and clear-eyed voice drives the reader like a vengeful officer on a harrowing march through a landscape of nightmare, brutality and absurdity. Low, our protagonist - and (perhaps) the eponymous figure - is a student in a fantastical, dreamlike realm, called up to serve both as soldier and narrator in a convoluted war.

Low's position as a 'military narrator' doesn't just serve as an introduction to the alien culture of its world - this is from the off a story about stories, about who gets to tell them and which we hear, and how they shape reality. This theme manifests in many forms, both more direct - such as Low's encounter with an enemy narrator later in the novel, or the 'narrative spirit' that follows him in his odyssey - and less - like the rumours of the mortuary students Low befriends about a character whose story he later hears from her own lips. Even Low's own name becomes contested, a site of conflict between his own culture and the uncaring military bureaucracy that seeks to hammer every peg into one shape of hole. Perhaps the most striking example is when Low and Punkinflake - one of the above-mentioned mortuary students who joins Low in the army - encounter a 'dreamer'.

We all hate them here, and soon you'll learn to as well.

Why should I hate someone for dreaming?

This is their dream," he says pointing vehemently at the earth, and then adds in a bitter, wounded tone, "and we are their creatures. They disguise themselves and trick us, toy with us, draw us into their empty themes, leave us stuck in their follies... trifling with us, and then, when we need them - where are they? They're gone!

The idea of a war novel in a setting reminiscent, as made explicit here, of Lovecraft's Dreamlands would be a draw in itself, but Cisco masterfully marries the fantastical and the philosophical, the existential and the bizarre, creating a novel which is not just a fiercely compelling journey but a profound exploration of conflict, ideology, memory and narrative itself. Low begins the story unconvinced by the propaganda narrative of his own military, but finds that even so his own narrative power is quashed, even as he struggles to make his own sense of the world around him. As the story progresses we see that even his initial cynicism falls short, as again and again stories are unravelled and rebuilt. Saskia, one of Low's comrades claims to be lost royalty. Is this delusion, lies, or improbable truth? If she is an effective soldier, does it matter? Amidst the chaos, every character has their own story, often clashing, and who and what to believe - if anything - becomes an ever-present tension.

Cisco's well-earned stature in the weird fiction and horror genres is in full display here. Low faces enemy soldiers nicknamed 'blackbirds' for their lighter-than-air armour that lets them soar into battle; he encounters a bizarre techno-sorcerous tower and the remnants of a monstrous superweapon. Yet it is the forces on his 'own' side that invoke the greatest fear - the 'Edeks' who act as supernatural enforcers of imperial mandate; the grotesque and abhorrent 'Ghuards', elite troops who brutalise allies and civilians; the inhospitable military bureaucracy and the petty whims of commanding officers. All this collides with a sickeningly evocative representation of the inconceivable nightmare that is any war - the terror, savagery and randomness of violence at scale. At times elements may seem a little on-the-nose, such as Low's commanding officer recruiting the inmates of an abandoned mental asylum to bolster the unit, but really, like with the opening paragraph above, some points need to be made that bluntly.

This is a striking, often painful novel, that makes superb use of its fantastical and horrific elements to get its point across without compromising masterful storytelling. It is a novel that from its basic premise - a ground view of a fantasy war from a handful of individuals swept up in it - asks huge questions about whose stories are told and remembered, and why, without losing sight of those individuals and their struggles.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Richo Reviews: Split Scream Volume 3 by Patrick Barb and J.A.W. McCarthy (Dread Stone Press, 2023)

Split Scream Volume 3 is here and Dread Stone are going from strength to strength with these double-feature, bite-size horror tales. This time, we have Patrick Barb's So Quiet, So White , and Imago Expulsio (The Red Animal of Our Blood)  by J.A.W. McCarthy. In Barb's story, following family relations in the aftermath of a terrible event, he truly puts the lie to the old saw that good prose should be unnoticeable. His writing is thick, writhing in the reader's hands. On occasion it can trip over itself, choke on itself, but at its best it is reminiscent of Laird Barron, stylised and punchy and surly. Some writing flows, but this oozes , slick and ominous. Who wants a pane of glass when you can have this glorious dark vista? Atmosphere and tone are Barb's weapons of choice, but he still manages to work in a vicious twist - more analogous to a twist of a knife in the gut than a twist in the tale. McCarthy's piece is a darkly romantic story of passion, trauma, and the t

Vivi

Lately I've been worrying a lot about time; what I'm doing with my life, what I've done in my life so far. Whether or not I've left it too late to learn anything useful, get good at anything, do anything worthwhile. These thoughts brought me to Vivi. For those unaware, Vivi is (in addition to being my precious perfect son) a character from Final Fantasy IX, a Black Mage. Vivi appears as a typical Black Mage character - he has the big floppy pointy hat obscuring a black circle for a head, he has the blue robe, he has powerful damage-dealing spells. But Vivi does not fit the stereotype of a wizard. When we meet him, he is in town to see a play - the start of a wish to see the world and learn, as he is thus far very sheltered. In fact, he seems very naive and childlike, completely at sea in a new environment and easily tricked. Rather than wise, he is credulous; while he wields destructive powers, he is immediately warm, earnest and eager to help. Vivi joins our party and