The Corean Chronicles
Experience... and Popularity in the Novel
In some ways, the first three books of the Spellsong Cycle are among the most realistic fantasies I've written, particularly in dealing with sexual politics and intrigue. Interestingly enough, each of the five books received starred reviews from some literary source or another, and the last book was a book of the year for one literary review. None of my other fantasy series has received anywhere close to that sort of critical acclaim, but the books of the Spellsong Cycle don't sell as well as those in my other fantasy series.
It can't be because there's no sex, since none of my books -- except one, published more than 20 years ago -- contain anything other than indirect allusions to sex. Is it because the main character is a middle-aged woman? Is it because the source of magic is the fairly technical application of song and accompaniment? Or is it because I dared to show certain very direct components of sexual discrimination?
All of those may play a part, but I suspect that the real reason is the same reason why my science fiction novel Archform:Beauty won plaudits and awards and only sold modestly. The success/failures of characters in both books hinge on the value of experience. No young hero saves the day against impossible odds. In the Spellsong Cycle, Anna bides her time, utilizes the bitter lessons of academic politics and a failed marriage to position herself so that, when the time comes, she can act effectively. She doesn't hate men, but she has few illusions about either their strengths and weaknesses, and she's not any easier in assessing those of her own "fair" sex, either.
In Archform:Beauty, the experiences of the five viewpoint characters -- all told from the first person -- interact and combine to create the resolution, and like most such resolutions in life, the results are bittersweet and mixed... and, also like life, anything but world-shaking.
This does bring up a point that has certainly been debated for years, if not centuries, and that is whether, except in exceedingly rare cases, books that hew closer to the realities of human emotions and experiences can ever be wildly popular. Is popularity based on the defiance of experience, the dream of identifying with what we as readers know to be impossible, but would still like to believe? Does it matter?
This might seem like an "eternal question," but in a sense, it's anything but eternal, because in terms of human culture, the modern novel is an extremely recent innovation. While epic tales date back millennia, and one of the first examples of what we would consider a novel is the eleventh century Japanese work, The Tale of Genji, such examples were either essentially oral traditions or hand-written longer works with extremely limited circulation. The modern novel needed the printing press, and a number of scholars suggest that
And in practical terms, until the 1950s, and the wide-spread advent of paperback books, novels tended to be restricted to those who could afford them, and not a large percentage of the population could. While book publishers were clearly interested in profitability, "popularity" didn't become the dominant issue with book publishers until the late nineteenth century, and didn't become an overriding imperative until the last 50-75 years.
But the interplay of popularity and content do raise further questions. What is the point of publishing a book? To sell as many copies as possible? To make a great profit? To entertain? To enlighten? To educate? To raise issues? What trade-offs do publishers make... and why?
I've certainly been fortunate as an author to have been backed by a publisher who has allowed me to raise issues, sometimes less than popular ones, in what I've hoped is an interesting and entertaining manner... and I've seen other publishers who do, but I have to wonder, as I watch the media conglomerates strive for market saturation and pure profitability, how long truly thought-provoking books will be widely published.
But as for Archform: Beauty, I didn't buy it, and the reason why had nothing to do with what you said. Basically, I couldn't tell what the heck it was about from the cover, and the jacket text didn't help much. It kind of reads like a description of one of those films that were popular in the mid-90s where you had all these interlocking stories, but nothing much really happened.
For an existing series, not knowing this info is not so big a deal, I have expectations. For a new one, or a standalone book, it is. Looking on Amazon at the text, I think what turned me off was this:
"L.E. Modesitt Jr., asks difficult questions..."
That was basically a big danger sign. "Warning. Danger, Will Robinson. Arthouse SF". I read SF/Fantasy for entertainment purposes. I don't mind the other stuff, but if the purpose of the work was to 'examine difficult questions' I'm really not interested. If, on the other hand, the purpose of the work was to entertain, and it succeeds in that, and along the way happens to do some of that questioning, that's a whole different thing.
Regarding Archform: Beauty, it was much the same thing. I had a hard time understanding the new terms you invented (or maybe I am unfamiliar with existing terms), and the political stuff just wasn't as interesting as most of your writing. One of my favorite sci-fi books of yours is Parafaith War - which also asks deeper questions and has a somewhat questionable resolution, but the presentation was easier for me to understand and the subject matter more engaging. Maybe it's just a preference thing - perhaps more readers enjoy faster-moving stories with more action. And you can't get to the meatier stuff until they're hooked in the first place.
That thought is that my experience is that it is very hard to make music central to any novel, science fiction or otherwise. Maybe the closest I've seen pre-Spellsong was Lloyd Biggle's Still Small Voice of Trumpets, which really wasn't much more than a short story. I suppose I might cite some Anne McCaffrey and some newer authors with their bards, although I think the focus there that I've seen is not on the music, and maybe in "mainstream" fiction Saul Bellow's Herzog with its description of an oboist (although probably any oboist would tell you that not playing for a while and then just ripping off bourrees and gigues as he does is pretty unlikely). And then there are a few spots in Dorothy Dunnett's work ... And I think the main reason is that it's just plain hard to show the virtues of music in novel form.
What are those virtues that are so hard to show? Well, I'd say that a lot of the value of music is not in the words but in the music itself, and so the way it comes across in the novel is not as music but poetry. Cf. for example the recording of Tolkien trying to sing some of his verses; it really gives a new dimension (he also collaborated with Donald Swann on setting some of the stuff to music, with interesting but uneven results).
The other part of music that is very important but hard to convey is the collaborative aspect. Duets or chamber music whether sung or played well, mean that the follower is in extraordinary empathy with the leader; it really brings out the altruism and group effectiveness of some people. But how many novels capture that?
My feeling with Spellsong was that given the structure you set up, you were bound to find it difficult to overcome those difficulties (I'm not saying I know how to get around them, either!) Thus, inevitably, the words became more important than the music in the story, giving it an impression of a book with poetry but with music "bolted on" to the poetry. By the same token, the key criterion for the players, aside from perfection, was physical effort and stamina. My own personal experience is that I have had to unlearn trying to be perfect and to put out extra effort, in order to play better; yoga-like calm and experimentation actually produce better results.
Anyway, just some thoughts :)
The most glaring application of this, I believe, is the flame song that seeks out and kills all potential traitors even if unknown to the singer. This seems to be the ultimate free lunch so as to speak and I find it hard to be interested in characters who at every critical point resort to what I see as deus ex machina. Part of the reasons why I dislike the Spellsong saga is due to the fact that I prefer science-fiction type fantasy where the applications of the fantasy aspects of the story are explained in a logical fashion. The two novels I purchased in this series are the only ones of yours that I have regretted buying and haven't reread multiple times.
I did like Archform:Beauty. Possibly the reason that it didn't do so well is that it lacked the strong central character that is the hallmark of all your other science fiction stories. It was possibly also the one story which directly concentrated on ideas rather than adventure. I think a large majority of science fiction readers merely want a large dose of action with a thin sprinkling of new technology and new ideas. Yes, I thought the cover was a little odd, but its still better than the cover of The Octogonal Raven which shows what I presume is the main character holding a gun of some kind even though I don't believe he even possessed a firearm in the entire novel. I'm sure the cover design did increase sales even though it was inaccurate, so you should try releasing Archform: Beauty with a cover that suggests an action oriented story.
I wish you would write more books similar to this and think you have; since in my opinion both The Eternity Artifact and The Elysium Commission mirror both the approach and strengths of Archform:Beauty, but with covers and story lines that include a bit more action. I think your greatest strengths as an author are the characters you create and the questions you raise in your novels. There are a lot of writers that can create action books but only a limited number that can create good science fiction or fantasy novels.
<< Back to all Blog posts
