Charles de Lint

If I don’t feel like ‘fessing up and telling people that Peter Pan is my favourite book when they ask, I usually say that The Onion Girl holds a special place, but DAMN I had forgotten how dark this book is. I don’t think I’ve read it for at least a decade (maybe closer to 15 years if we’re being honest), and with this much more life experience the complexities of this story hit very differently. Themes around sexual abuse dominate the narrative, so Jilly’s story is definitely show more not one for the faint of heart, but it is well worth reading as de Lint carefully explores the aftermath of growing up in an abusive household and the life that can come after. Jilly may have been through hell and back, but she came out the other side a person who is able to find the light (and realism) of life again, and her story is one that is almost necessary in this world that often feels like it has so little hope. Sprinkled with de Lint’s signature magic, which artfully blends European and North American motifs, by the final pages of the story we are left with a distinct glow after having walked through the darkness with some of our favourite characters. Newford always seems to have that magic about it, so maybe when we’re feeling low (or getting dragged down by DNF burnout) we need a reminder to revisit our favourite fictional city for a stroll down memory lane. Some of the memories (like this one) may be a challenge to revisit, but they’re worth it for the feeling of nostalgic satisfaction by the finale. show less

Revisiting Charles de Lint’s stories is always a delight, but I don’t think we can get any more delightfully strange than the Crow Girls, Maida and Zia, so it’s extra wonderful that he collected this small handful of their stories together as a collection. This pair of tousle-haired, rambunctious, and ever-changing characters are some of de Lint’s most intriguing, because while they pop up in many of the Newford stories, their guest-starring roles make them an inevitable set of show more enigmas. Flying in and out and circling round just enough to either cause trouble or be in on the action, Maida’s and Zia’s inquisitive natures are always an interesting counterpoint (whether in mirth or in surprising age-old wisdom) to Newford’s many other citizens. This small collection contains five stories where they play relatively central roles, and gathered together in this manner, we can maybe discover more about the Crow Girls than when they are scattered randomly throughout other tales - but that’s kind of against their innate nature, so I don’t think that even by the end of this collection we can feel like we know them. They’re ever-changing, ever-entertaining, and ever-inspiring, which is I think the point de Lint is trying to make with this innocent and yet otherworldly pair. They’re not quite driven by regular human emotions, and they take on a certain manner from the crows that name their tribe (and dual natures), and they remind us that the world is never quite what it seems if we’re just willing to see the magic in it - joy and all. show less

Considering how long some authors take to release their new material, we shouldn't really whine about the 8 years in between Charles de Lint's previous adult novel nad the Wind in his Heart. Especially since he continues to write books aimed at the young adult market which are totally paletable in the mean time. So only a little whine (whine). That's out of the way now, so all that remains is praise. In typical fashion de Lint has crafted an intricate story with highly engaging characters, show more blending elements of fantasy and myth with human struggle and modern date themes taken straight from the world's headlines. What surprised me most (even though it shouldn't, being well acquainted with de Lint's inclinations) was how well he explored First Nations mythology and spirituality. He's always written about folklore from North America, but I guess I had forgotten how seemlessly his stories fit together and how true they seem compared to "real" folklore (however we want to define that). In this political climate as well, it stands as a positive example of how cultures can come together and be explored in a positive way, even when in the hands of someone outside of said culture. If anything, it's fiction like this that rekindles my interest in folklore and mythology systems, and even while I know the basics of First Nations lore it reminds me that there is so much more out there to find. Hopefully it won't be another 8 years until de Lint's next novel, but I can always go back and reread some of my old favourites. show less

I keep reading de Lint's books, and almost loving them. But I never quite do. I spent some time today thinking about why, and I think it's that, although I like the type of people he tends to feature as characters, and I tend to agree with many of his themes, I think that what he wants to "say" comes before his actual story.
Some books, one feels that the action springs from the characters and who they are - in de Lint's, I feel that he's almost walking them through it.

"Memory and Dream" is show more about a young art student who meets a famous, reclusive artist. He becomes her mentor - but is also controlling and abusive. But - he teaches her a technique of painting that allows her to open a gateway through her paintings, allowing creatures of magic to "step through" and take physical form in our world.

Years later, she has rejected this ability - and through both memories and illusions, we see the story of why - in a tale that involves her best friend's death, friends estranged, hidden child abuse, and a foundation to help troubled kids through art... but also magical beings.

When, five years after her friend's death, a letter that was delayed in the mail arrives, a chain of events is set in motion that will bring all of both the magic and trauma of the past back to be dealt with, and she will realize evil secrets may be deeper than she ever knew.

Actually, that seems to be one of de Lint's themes that I disagree with. If I recall correctly, "Forests of the Heart" had a similar thing going on - someone that people always made excuses for, but who turned out to be PURE EVIL. de Lint seems to be hinting that there isn't such a thing as a flawed person, with both bad and good in them - it's either good or evil, and what people do is just kid themselves that these people aren't really evil. And moreover, I feels there's an agenda behind the writing, to encourage readers to kick those flawed, depressed or controlling/manipulative/abusive people out of their lives. Not that I'm saying that people shouldn't ditch such people - but I think one can recognize an unhealthy relationship without going to the "PURE EVIL!" extreme.

When all the characters fall into "types" (artistic but emotionally sensitive/gullible student, abusive and powerful mentor, rape victim, child abuse victim, well-meaning and kind black social worker, honorable and justice-seeking Native American, good-at-heart gang members, troubled children who are victims of society, etc) it begins to feel a little preachy, and a little idealistic. In this book, I didn't just feel like I was reading a story about people who wanted to run a non-profit agency to help street kids, I felt like I was being exhorted to donate time and money to such charities.
I think the reason for this is that although such "troubled kids" appear in the book, none of them make more than two-dimensional, cameo appearances. It gives the feeling of do-gooders proffering charity, rather than offering insight into what it might be like to grow up on the streets. The brief flashback into the abused character's being forced into child porn really didn't ring true, either...

Hmm. I'm sounding a little harsh now. I did actually like this book. I've read a lot of de Lint's books, and I'll read more. I like the way he meshes magic with a 'modern bohemian' setting. But a message is more effective when more subtly given... show less