Read and Appreciated in 2003
An Editorial Year’s Best List
My 2003 was a bad year for reading, and it was interesting to notice that quite a few other contributors to the Listmania! feature had their reading habits likewise disrupted by work and/or worries of all kinds. For the first time in many years, I started several books that I couldn’t finish, not because they were bad, but simply that I couldn’t concentrate enough to fully appreciate them. It’s very likely that I’ll give them another go in 2004, assuming this will be a better year. Still, and even though I didn’t read as many books as I would have liked, I think I read more books that I did like than in previous years.
To top that list, I don’t think I could pick any titles other than M. John Harrison’s chilling novel Light (Gollancz, 2002) and his collection Things That Never Happen (Night Shade Books, 2002). I’ve been a fan of Harrison’s meticulous prose since I first read his Viriconium cycle years ago, and I’m happy to say that my admiration for his work has been further consolidated by these two books.
2003 was also the year I discovered the work of Edward Whittemore, and I’m now beginning to wonder if it was such a bad year after all. I absolutely loved Sinai Tapestry (Magnum, 1979), book one of the Jerusalem Quartet, which reads wonderfully in spite of the fragmented narrative, appropriately used to mirror one of the central elements of the story, the original Bible and the scandalous ravings that fill its pages. Whittemore’s intimate knowledge of the Middle East and its history give this book a unique atmosphere, and the eccentric goings-on don’t get in the way of a humane and serious treatment of the situation. Edward Whittemore is a sadly neglected writer, and I’m pleased that Old Earth Books decided to bring him back into print.
Religion and fanaticism play an important role in another of my favourite novels of 2003, Nick Cave’s And the Ass Saw the Angel (Penguin, 1990). This densely written book follows the life of the mute Euchrid Euchrow, unloved resident of the Gormenghastian community of Ukulore Valley, and who at times embodies the viewpoint characters in The Sound and the Fury (a major influence here), either individually or simultaneously, as his frustrated attempts to communicate drive him progressively insane and into the hands of murderous zeal.
Speaking of madness (but of a much more salutary nature), I was pleased to read a couple of great books by Rhys Hughes that don’t happen to be out of print or cost the GDP of a small third world nation. The ambitious Borges parody/homage A New Universal History of Infamy (soon to be released by the Ministry of Whimsy Press) is a superb and deliriously funny collection that presents Rhys Hughes at his best yet. We soon hope to throw the spotlight on it here at Fantastic Metropolis, with an interview by Borges expert Allen B. Ruch, also editor of one of the most impressive literary resources to be found online, The Modern Word. While not as good as A New Universal History…, Nowhere Near Milkwood (Prime Books, 2002), and the “Taller Tales” section in particular, was still thoroughly enjoyable.
China Miéville’s The Tain (PS Publishing, 2002), another Borges-inspired book, is in my opinion his most accomplished work to date. Unlike in previous books, there is no dead weight here, and I found the writing more balanced than before. Could this be in part due to a better editor? Regardless, I do think Miéville is progressing splendidly, and I look forward to Iron Council coming out later this year. Other notable titles released by Peter Crowther’s PS Publishing that I had the pleasure to read in 2003 are Paul di Filippo’s A Year in the Linear City and Michael Moorcock’s Firing the Cathedral, all three of which you’ll find reprinted in the affordable (and available) anthology Cities (Gollancz, 2003), together with Geoff Ryman’s novella V.A.O.. I should point out that PS Publishing has been releasing a great deal of delicious-sounding titles lately, but unfortunately my pockets don’t go very deep, so I’m forced to wait for reprints.


