This is not a book for beginners. I hate saying that, because it’s super patronizing - Malazan devotees, I’m looking at you - but I kinda have to on this one. Not because it expects you to remember a zillion details and characters (there’s about half a dozen of significance) but because this is a book that assumes you are a serious, serious reader. If you haven’t read a ton of books, especially fantasy books, there’s a lot that you’re going to miss. If you aren’t interested in the craft of writing, then this book is probably going to be boring. If you’re not at least vaguely familiar with The Tempest and Twelfth Night, you’re going to not understand a ton of things - Walton doesn’t feel the need to explain to the reader who Orsini and Miranda are. But if you love hearing authors talk about their experiences and influences, if you love reading rough cuts and early drafts, and if books have been your constant companion for your entire life - then there’s a good chance you’ll love this book.
There are two principal characters. One is Sylvia, an aging fantasy writer, acclaimed within the SF/F fandom community but not particularly known outside of it. I’m thinking like Robin Hobb-level. The kind of writer, at the point in her life she’s at, might well get named a Damon Knight Grand Master. (I’m not trying to gatekeep here - I’m really not - but knowing what the Damon Knight Grand Master award is may well be a good barometer for how much you’ll appreciate this book.) The other principal character, who serves as the narrator, lives in Sylvia’s head. He has no name, but he’s been Sylvia’s muse and inspiration for her entire life. Nearly every book she’s written, he’s one of the characters. Not in a Hoid from the Cosmere sense, but he’s always been inside one of the characters. Hero, villain, side character, important-character-who-only-shows-up-briefly-but-looms-large, even a dragon - he’s been them all.
As the book begins, Sylvia is trying to write a book without him (“I’m worried you’re getting stale”) but generally failing because he keeps worming his way in. She’s also dying of cancer, which has the narrator frightened both because he loves her, and because without her he’ll die too.
The book revolves around Sylvia revisiting Ilyria, one of her earlier worlds, a world where immortality is possible (thanks to the heroic efforts of one of the earlier embodiments of the narrator). He’s trying to convince her to go to Ilyria before she dies, so they can keep living, and he can exist outside of her. What happens is a very meta story-about-stories, where we learn about Sylvia’s life at the same time she’s trying to write this new book, her final book, and the narrator’s attempts to steer things so that the two come together (after convincing her that it’s possible at all, that Ilyria is real in a way she can go to).
The parts about Sylvia’s life feel very autobiographical. I don’t know if it is or not - this is my first Jo Walton book, and I don’t know anything about her personal life - but I have no doubt that even if the details have been changed, she poured a great deal of herself into this book.
This was an ARC, so it’s not going to be generally available for a few months. I’m going to be waiting impatiently for it to come out, because I’m pretty certain I’m going to be chewing on this for the entire time. I want someone to talk about it with. This wasn’t a conventional read for me, but I greatly enjoyed it.
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