M. T. Anderson

I have a particular fondness for books set in the early middle ages that involve naive monks and worldly, cynical relic hunters. It's a very specific subgenre and one that is dear to my heart. One gets all the interesting theological tidbits of the era along with a the struggle between disillusionment and what I'll call (in an attempt at balance) "reillusionment."

What underlies the embrace or rejection of a theology?

M. T. Anderson's Nicked is a delightful example of this subgenre. The humor show more outweighs the pathos by a bit, but there's such a deep sincerity to it. Anderson crafts beautiful prose and can create a richly detailed image from a single sentence. The short overview is this: young monk dreams of St. Nicholas, tells others (who see it as a moment of economic opportunity) of his dream, resulting in relic hunter, monk, and local political bigwig—along with crews of oarsmen and soldiers/mercenaries—find themselves asea with a mission of stealing the remains of St. Nicholas in order to profit the local abbey and town.

If this is your kind of a read, you are in for such a delight! Even if you don't think it's your kind of a read, I'd urge you to check it out. There's a whole subgenre out there, full of philosophy, cynicism, moral dilemmas, cognitive dissonance, and more waiting for you.

I received a free electronic review copy of this title from the publisher via NetGalley; the opinions are my own. show less

Two academics, an elf and a goblin, meet as representatives of their eternally-warring kingdoms to learn more about each other. At least, that's what they think. But really, the elf Brangwain Spurge is disliked by his peers and was sent to the Kingdom of Goblins to get rid of him. The elves are using the "research" about goblins that Brangwain transmits back home as intel to plan an invasion. In the Kingdom of Goblins, Brangwain is such a bigoted jerk to all the goblins that he and his host, show more Werfel the Archivist, goblin historian, have to go on the run together or face execution. But they'll be fine, because the other elves will totally come rescue Brangwain, right?

This story is told in three forms. Some scenes are beautiful, black and white, wordless illustrations by Eugene Yelchin which represent the images that Brangwain transmits back to Elfland, other sections are letters from Brangwain's boss to the King of Elfland, and the remaining scenes are straightforward prose narrative from Werfel's point of view. While a fascinating premise, which made the pages fly by, the result felt a little lop-sided. The story is about two educated men realizing that they have been fed propaganda their whole lives, and learning who their "enemy" really is as a person. But that message is a little undercut by having two-thirds of the book from elf POV and one from goblin POV. Brangwain is presented as having a lot more growing to do than Werfel. Also, the goblins are led by a giant octopus that came from another planet specifically to be king of the goblins and this is just never examined??

Overall, a very enjoyable read with a great message, though not as poignant as it could be. I'm not sure what age it's exactly written for, but adults will definitely appreciate it. show less

Rating: 4.5* of five

The Publisher Says: It sounds like a fairy tale. He is a boy dressed in silks and white wigs and given the finest of classical educations. Raised by a group of rational philosophers known only by numbers, the boy and his mother — a princess in exile from a faraway land — are the only persons in their household assigned names. As the boy's regal mother, Cassiopeia, entertains the house scholars with her beauty and wit, young Octavian begins to question the purpose show more behind his guardians' fanatical studies. Only after he dares to open a forbidden door does he learn the hideous nature of their experiments — and his own chilling role in them.

Set against the disquiet of Revolutionary Boston, M. T. Anderson's extraordinary novel takes place at a time when American Patriots rioted and battled to win liberty while African slaves were entreated to risk their lives for a freedom they would never claim. The first of two parts, this deeply provocative novel reimagines the past as an eerie place that has startling resonance for readers today.

My Review: I am always up for history, especially if it's presented from an unusual viewpoint or in a fresh manner. I thought this would be a fairly conventional and thus mildly tedious slave-comes-of-age, resists-tyranny thing. But there was that raver...surely someone who bothers to come to LT won't be that impressed by the usual thing....

So I got it, and I am so glad I did. The author recapitulates the bizarre upbringing of Octavian in a place called "The College of Lucidity" which is located in Boston (which is how you know it's fiction, Boston being the least lucid place I've ever been) in the faintly modernized voice of the youth himself looking back on the experience.

It's troubling, to put it mildly. It's flat creepy. But it's all he knew as a childhood, though life has taught him it's not what others knew as a childhood. He even quotes his mother saying he's never been a child. (He, Octavian, our narrator...these are interchangeable references in this review.) His very...well, ummm, inputs and throughputs are weighed and measured and logged for reference. His education is that of the most privileged, enlighted prince of his age. He stresses in presenting us with these facts that he felt no strangeness or otherness to his life. He was, so far as he knew, the object of no untoward interference or unusual interest.

The object speaks. It is a very unsettling reading experience.

As the story progresses and our narrator recalls his budding awareness and emotional growth as regards self and others, it becomes evident that Octvian and his mother are gilded captives. It's a realization that doesn't gall...yet...on him, but the author's subtlety with his emotional flensing knife is such that the older narrator's awareness of his feelings presages quietly the events at the end of the book. (No spoilers...but look carefully at the disturbing jacket illustration.)

Anderson's stated aim in writing this book is that he wished it had been around when he was a young reader. I wish it had, too. It's wonderful writing, no matter it's supposed to be "for" YAs. From p96 of the hardcover edition:

"Shortly after two o'clock on June 3rd, 1769, Venus descended into the plane of the ecliptic and came between the Earth and the sun. It is with awe that I treat of the event -- so minute, so silent here upon the Earth -- but there -- one can scarce imagine the roaring of that vast orb through those frigid depths, tumbling, flung through the plane of our orbit; the glaring heat, the searing glare of Sol -- and the gargantuan prodigiality of that body, consuming its own substance ceaselessly while planets whirled like houris, veiled and ecstatic around the throne of some blast-turbaned, light-drunken king."

Our narrator...a youth, a stripling...so beautifully educated that he can create sentences like these! Such a huge bar is set for the youth reading this, but not one that's so far above and beyond comprehension that it's discouragingly impossible to meet. It's a nice sight to see the lack of condescenscion in this type of writing.

So how do the adults fare? Not too well, from the foolish and clueless Mr. Gitney to the aptly named and evil Mr. Sharpe, whose words from p338 (hardcover) I reproduce here that he may damn himself from his own lips:

"We have labored too long under a government that has sought to curtail exchange; such interference is unnatural. We shall see a brave new day, Octavian, when the rights of liberty and property are exerciseed, and when all men are free to operate in their own self-interest. And as each individual expresses his self-interested will, so does the democratical voice speak, the will of the common people, not kings and ministers; and when the self-interest of every citizen speaks together, then and only then does benevolence arise."

So sayeth the free man to the slave. The prosecution rests. Recommended, and most highly. show less

When the aliens came, they brought with them plentiful technology to upgrade manufacturing, medicine, farming, and every aspect of human life. Their arrival brought about the end of work, which immediately heightened the divide between rich and poor. Now, a few lucky humans provide services or entertainment for the vuvv. Adam and his girlfriend Chloe hate each other, but they signed up to be on a channel for the aliens to view (vuvv are fascinated with human courtship rituals), and the money show more they bring in is keeping their families afloat. Adam, a visual artist, desperately wants to find another way to make money, but how far will he have to go?

Like most of Anderson’s work, this novella is both thought-provoking and depressing. I’m sure I’ll be pondering it for the next few days. show less