Over the weekend I dropped a piece at Castalia House comparing one aspect of Sterling Lanier’s Hiero’s Journey to a short story by Andre Norton. The long and short of it is that Norton’s use of “mind powers” was a lot more interesting and imaginative and magical than Lanier’s. Though I do give points for the Dragon Ball-esque powering up system of Hiero’s Journey, whereby psions (or at least the protagonist) must actually battle and make strenuous use of their powers in order to seriously “level up.”
Since Saturday, I had a chance to read another of Norton’s shorts, and I was surprised. My readings of Leigh Brackett and C.L. Moore’s short fiction have thus far been fairly uniform. By that I mean that Brackett’s writing has generally been very action-oriented and full of dynamic characters and exotic locales. Moore’s got that poetic Howardian flair and a real talent for the blending of fantasy and horror elements (no, I haven’t gotten to her scifi yet, though I know she’s famous for Northwest Smith). So not to write them off as one-trick (both Brackett and Moore are amazing so this is probably not the case), but at least so far I’ve been savoring a steadily-maintained flavor for each.
With Norton, on the other hand, High Sorcery starts off with a very evenly-paced and increasingly exciting tale of a wizard brought somehow to a new land with mages of its own. In “Wizard’s World,” magic seems to be systematic but varied and flexible. It is a product of the mind and primarily illusory, but also quite capable of inflicting physical harm. There are orbs of fire and conjured serpents, and giant magical walls of thorn.
Her second tale, “Through the Needle’s Eye,” is much more subdued and mysterious. The protagonist is not an action-minded hero nor a wily witch, but a girl with a bum leg. One days she wanders into the garden of her neighbor – a tragic, somewhat creepy older woman who like the protagonist is lame (in the ambulatory sense). The old woman winds up being a master seamstress of sorts, and winds up taking the girl under her wing and teaching her to stitch and sew and weave. The story culminates in a startling and magical reveal about the old woman the nature of her gift, which she offers to pass on to her young protege.
I was quite surprised by the difference in the two stories. They read like the works of two very different but both talented writers.
I’ve also gone back to Jack Vance’s Demon Prince series. I didn’t return as quickly as I’d intended, but that’s only due to an overabundance of treasure. It was only recently that I learned this, but Vance was also an author of mystery/thriller books. Armed with this new knowledge, it seems obvious. When you look at the Demon Prince books and also Rhialto the Marvellous, you’ve got SFF with generous infusions of mystery/thriller elements.
Throughout his quest for revenge, protagonist Kirth Gersen more often plays the gumshoe than the fighting man (though he’s adept at both roles). In tracking down his quarries, he must follow leads and unwind various plots and mysteries. In the last of the Dying Earth installments, the titular magician Rhialto is occasionally thrust into a sleuth-like position, forced to fend off unjust accusations or actions taken unfairly against him. Even works like the Gray Prince demonstrate Vance’s skill and proclivity for the expanding mystery and “the big reveal.” Still, when contrasted with his earlier and perhaps most critically-acclaimed Dying Earth stories, we see a different set of mechanisms and story elements on display.
All this is to say – Vance and Norton, to my judgement, were both very skilled at writing good but disparate types of stories.