Mainly in Moonlight

 
 
Mainly in Moonlight
Ten Stories of Sorcery and the Supernatural

by Nicholas Gray
Meredith Press

1965, reprinted 1967 
 
 
Mainly in Moonlight is a collection of fantasy stories from the 1960s by Nicholas Gray. The stories are meant for older kids or younger teens. They're structured like fairy tales or bedtime stories. Each one begins "Once, not so very long ago," but they subvert the usual plotlines of the genre in a way that young kids might find frustrating or boring. These are stories of princes and princesses, sorcerers and magic, quests and adventures, but they never go quite how you expect, in ways that might be thought provoking, or disappointing, or both.
 
In Rhetorics of Fantasy, Farah Mendlesohn identifies four kinds of fantasy - portal fantasies, immersive fantasies, intrusive fantasies, and liminal fantasies, which are the kind I think is most relevant here. In a portal fantasy, we follow as someone from our world travels to a fantasy world. In an immersive fantasy, we are immersed in a fantasy world, following characters who are natives to it. An intrusive fantasy mostly takes places in our world, but fantastic characters intrude into it from some hidden and previously unknown place. And then there are liminal fantasies, which I think describes most of the stories in Mainly in Moonlight, where we follow a character who encounters the fantastic but turns away from it instead of going in.
 
In one story, we follow a lady-in-waiting who learns that a handsome prince has been transformed into a loathsome animal. She rushes to help him regain his human form, but when he offers to marry her she demurs. Unlike in "The Frog Prince", she wasn't looking for true love and didn't find it. She saved someone who needed rescuing, but that doesn't mean she wants to upend the rest of her life for him.
 
In the title story, "Mainly in Moonlight", a young man dreams his pregnant cat will give birth to a white kitten, and so he finds a sorcerer who'll make the dream come true, on the condition that he provides a month of drudgery and servitude in the sorcerer's house. He accepts but quickly regrets it. A creature trapped in the well promises to cast the spell instead, if only the guy frees him; he does, but is told he's now enslaved to the creature for a year. He's tricked by two other false rescues, before the sorcerer takes pity and gives him what he really wants - just to go home where (because the spirits did it all in one night) his cat has just given birth to three white kittens.
 
Things often come in threes in these tales. A meek king lives in fear of his selfish, demanding son. When the prince is visited by a great wizard in the night, he's given a simple task, which he immediately fails because he has no impulse control. As punishment, the wizard makes him spend decades as a tree in a snowstorm, conscious for every moment, then after two other tasks and two other failures, centuries as a cloud circling a mountain, a millennium as sand in a burning desert. By this point the prince has been fully broken emotionally, and is prepared to obey any command without question, but when the wizard returns him to the present and tells him to kill the king, the prince still refuses, because he finally appreciates his father's love. It's like the reverse of Abraham and Isaac, but the wizard never really wanted loyalty, just to teach a brat that lesson.
 
In one of the best stories, "According to Tradition", a selfish prince is paired with a generous younger brother. The king has always gone easy on his awful older son and been harsh and stern to the gentle younger, because he's a genre savvy monarch and knows from the tales that all beloved eldest sons are doomed and all meek, selfless second sons will ultimately inherit the kingdom. The boys go on a quest together, to rescue a neighbor girl who's been kidnapped by the fairies. Three times the meet a magical figure in need, the older boy is loutish, and the younger one helps out by giving up a cloak, a ring, an act of kindness. In the second half of the the quest, they face three trials, and each time someone who was helped returns to repay the favor. (I think this is a really classic fairy tale plot.) The older brother receives no help, but gets through by giving up his heart, his ability to wed a human girl, and then his humanity - he becomes a fairy himself. The younger brother is free to return home with the girl, whose kidnapping was only ever a pretext to spare the kingdom from the awful son.
 
"A Lady's Quest" deserves a special mention because it's about a tomboy princess rescuing her brother, who is implicitly, but very clearly, written to be gay. The prince hates hunting and the military, wants to laze about the castle in comfort, and calls whoever he's talking to 'darling' in every sentence. The princess opines that she'd've made a better boy and her brother a better girl ... and he doesn't contradict her. The prince invents a fake quest to get his father off his back, and uses it as an excuse to hang out with his very close male friend, who doesn't enjoy the company of ladies. Then the pair of them are kidnapped by a witch, and the princess gets to do what she's always wanted, and have a quest herself. She doesn't defeat the witch, just offers her a chance to come back to the castle, have friends, and be a lady-in-waiting. The witch agrees but fears she won't be any good at the feminine activities of a lady; the princess reassures her that her lack of skill won't matter. Nothing about the initial situation is resolved, no one uses magic to switch anyone's genders, the prince will still be put upon and the princess thwarted, but the story ends there anyway, in a move that's typical of these stories.
 
One thought I had about these stories is that by denying us characters who accept the fantastic, by denying us satisfying endings, Gray might be encouraging his young readers to make up their own second chapters to each tale, to imagine what a proper adventure and a traditional ending might look like for each of his reluctant protagonists.

Super Late Bloomer

 
 
Super Late Bloomer
My Early Days in Transition
An Up and Out Collection

by Julia Kaye

Andrews McMeel
2018

 

 

Super Late Bloomer is a collection of autobiographical comics by Julia Kay, drawn in the 4 panel cartoon style of a daily newspaper comic. For Kaye, these comics functioned like a diary, helping her keep track of moods and events during her first summer living openly as a trans woman. Kaye was in her mid-20s at the time, and had moved back in with her parents while she started taking estrogen, getting laser hair removal, wearing women's clothes in public, changing her name and documents, and coming out to a widening circle of acquaintances.
 
Because they're so short, each comic is a little vignette of a single mood or incident. There's a mix of joy and self-acceptance with various forms of awkwardness and unpleasantness. I found a lot of Kaye's experiences really relatable, some from when I was first coming out myself, and some still today. A consistent metaphor is that taking estrogen and transitioning is like going through puberty again, with all the doubt and awkwardness that entails.
 
Kaye has a lot of self doubts - she worries that others will see her as a man playing dress-up, she frets about visible stubble, she's self-conscious about her voice. Sometimes she gets misgendered, even when she looks her most femme; other times she fears she will be, but then it's fine. Sometimes she hates her reflection. There are a few comics about public bathrooms - being afraid to come out of a stall when someone else is there, worrying what a friend will think when you're both in there at the same time. Kaye's parents are supportive, but there's one family member who's distant now, and she misses their friendship.
 
I think that for a lot of trans people, the process of figuring out what it is you're feeling and trying to decide what to do about it, is inherently isolating. You're doing a lot of introspecting, thinking about some of your most uncomfortable memories and emotions, and imagining how you might be able to feel better in the future. And you yourself might be the only trans person you know personally. It's easy to feel alone. 
 
Coming out, starting to socially and medically transition, hopefully does make you feel better. It's also different from anything you've done before, and it's new for your friends and family too. I think one of the most valuable things about a book like Super Late Bloomer is that it reminds you you're not alone, that others have felt what you're feeling, have done what you're now doing. You may be different from most of the people you know, but there are others like you, and things went mostly okay for them, and they can for you too. 

Paper Girls 4

 
 
Paper Girls 4

by Brian Vaughan
art by Cliff Chiang

Image Comics
2018
 
  

In volume 4 of Paper Girls, I think we finally start getting some clear information about what's been happening across the previous volumes, thanks to a helpful true believer who tries to indoctrinate the girls to her side. The new info helps make sense of what we've seen up to this point. Til now, we've mostly been along for the ride as the girls were menaced by a baffling conflict going on around them. We still are, really, but at least we're starting to understand the conflict!

 

In the first volume, the girls' suburban Cleveland neighborhood was invaded by strangeness the morning after Halloween in 1988. We saw that the two factions were mutated teenagers dressed like ninjas or burglars, and an army of knights riding pterodactyls. The future teens language is incomprehensible without a translator; the knights speak a barely intelligible version of English that reads like online forum slang. The knights are led by an old man who sounds perfectly contemporary and can barely understand his own troops.

 

We now know this is the War of the Ages, fought between the Old Timers, who want to avoid making any consequential changes to history, and their own descendants, who want to use time travel to change things. The linguistic drift we see suggests how long a span of future history we're dealing with here. The Old Timers have robots that can repair property damage, and to keep people from witnessing anything, they teleport them into stasis pods and use amnesia rays to erase anything out of place. They want to fight the teens whenever they show up, and use their tech to keep the fight itself from being recorded or remembered. We're told that the teens want to change history for the better, although we've mostly seen them stealing, perhaps supplies or maybe just souvenirs.

 

The girls time traveled by accident and arrived in 2016 in volume two. They met Erin's adult-self and also a future-teen who was a clone of Erin. Mac learned she has as-yet undiagnosed cancer and only a few years to live. The future clone accidentally brought tardigrades with her, and even more accidentally, they arrived as giants that began destroying downtown Cleveland. That brought in the Old Timers, flying a giant airship like a cathedral. 

 

The girls got sent through time again, appearing in the Stone Age in volume 3. They met a cavegirl their own age (who they could speak to using one of the translators) and the woman who invented time travel, on the very first trip. Unfortunately, the past was already littered with future junk when she arrived. Based on the two factions' philosophies, I'd guess the abandoned tech was left behind by the future teens. Touching an anomaly gave KJ a brief, kaleidoscopic vision of events from her own future, including kissing Mac. KJ was surprised and shaken by the vision. The scientist was killed by a caveman, but the girls used her time machine to escape.

 

Now in volume 4, they arrive back home, but on New Years Eve in the year 1999. In the comic, the Y2K bug caused mass power outages and other infrastructure shut-downs. Also, giant robots are fighting in the Cleveland suburbs, but only Tiffany can see them! Half the robots are being piloted by future teens, and half by the Old Timers. The leader, who we've always seen as an old man, is still young here, and the pterodactyl breeding program isn't finished yet. From his perspective, this battle happens early in his career. For the teens who met the girls in volume 1, I think this fight is immediately before that meeting; they retreat backward in time when their mecha is damaged.

 

The girls meet an elderly cartoonist who lives in their neighborhood. She met the future teens when she was a kid, and she's become a fanatical believer in their perspective on the war. They also meet Tiffany's college-age self. She grows up to be a goth! With a White boyfriend! The girls get into the damaged, abandoned mecha and it takes them further into the future, where the leader of the Old Timers is waiting. That particular mecha killed his copilot (who begged him, with her dying words, to hold fast to their principles and not overwrite her death), and he wants revenge. Hopefully he'll learn that it has a new pilot before he destroys it!

 

 

You'll want to break out the decoder ring for this one, because the future teens have kind of a lot of dialogue. It's depicted using a substitution code, with strange symbols replacing familiar letters. It takes a bit of time and effort matching the symbols to figure out what they're saying. The effect is interesting. Each symbol is complicated, looking more like a Chinese ideogram than an English letter. So the future teens' speech bubbles look like they're saying a lot. Somehow when I look at the symbols, the way it's written makes what they're saying look technical and complex, or maybe angry and warlike. Then I translate it and I see they mostly speak in short words and simple sentences, and most of what they're saying is just simple expressions of surprise or dismay. There's dramatic irony in the contrast.

 

Things are pretty tangled at this point, especially with the revelation that the order that we (and the girls) are seeing events in doesn't match the order the factions perceive them, and that the factions also have different timelines of events from each other. Time travel plots are frequently confusing, and this one has more interweaving than most.

Destined for Greatness

 
Destined for Greatness
Passions, Dreams, and Aspirations in a College Music Town

by Michael Ramirez

photos by Mike White

Rutgers University Press

2018 

 

 
Destined for Greatness is a sociological study of rock musicians in Athens, Georgia. Ramirez interviewed 48 musicians across 22 bands about how they got started in music, what their music career has been like, how they imagine their future. His interest here isn't in the artistic content of the songs, but in the job of being a musician. The book is organized around the stages of the lifecourse (and their intersection with the stages of having a career) with a special emphasis on differences between men's and women's experiences.
 
Although all Ramirez's interviewees were based in the same town, his research is not ethnographic, and there's no thick description of the Athens music scene, of what it's like to play or listen there, of what any of this music sounds like, beyond that it's rock rather than some other genre. If you go into the book expecting that, you'll be disappointed. His study is written up much as it would be if he interviewed people from across the country, about almost any kind of work. Though just as Ramirez isn't trying to be Gary Alan Fine, he's also not trying to be Michele Lamont, so there are no elaborate selection criteria for making a half-dozen comparisons between various 'halves' of the sample. Gender is the main point of difference between the musicians. Most of the rest of what Ramirez finds is similarity across them (or differences with little systematic basis).
 
The musicians Ramirez talked to aren't nationally famous; most are probable little known outside of Athens. Their level of success varies. A few make enough from playing local shows and regional tours to treat music as their full-time job; most are musicians in addition to other work, usually service jobs, occasionally office work. To be included, the band had to rehearse and perform regularly, and to either tour or have an album. The weakest part of each chapter is actually the introduction, when Ramirez tries to link whatever he's talking about to something a nationally famous musician has said in a public statement. He's on far firmer footing writing about his actual interviewees.
 
Ramirez frames his work primarily from a lifecourse perspective, and he's especially interested in the idea of emerging adulthood - supposedly a recent stage of life that sits between the end of adolescence and the start of full adulthood, when people have mostly achieved independence from their parents, but not yet achieved a marriage, mortgage, career, and children of their own. (As I understand it from authors other than Ramirez, the idea that people commonly wed and start having kids in their late teens or very early twenties is an expectation set in the historically abnormal 1950s. We hold ourselves to an imaginary standard set at a weird time.) 
 
Like many people their age, young adult musicians tend to delay forming their own families. Unlike most, their chosen career isn't seen as a 'real' or 'grown-up' job by others, so they have added difficulties in feeling like full adults, rather than like they've 'fallen behind' their peers. I think the extended apprenticeship of grad school might produce a similar feeling, and there are probably other career trajectories with the same problem, particularly in any creative field.
 
As I mentioned, the organization of the book centers on the stages of the lifecourse. We get a chapter about how they discovered their love of music, how they learned to play an instrument, and how they started playing rock music. We get a chapter about forming their first bands and playing their first shows. We get a chapter about the challenges of making a career out of music, especially for those who have to integrate musicianship with other employment, and about how they think about their identities as musicians and as adults. We get two chapters about gender - one about men in rock music, and one about women. And we get a chapter about how musicians envision their futures, whether they'll keep performing, and how they plan to continue their careers.
 
I started reading this hoping for an ethnography of the Athens music scene, but I appreciate Ramirez's research, and his insights into how people negotiate informal careers in creative industries. There are a handful of black and white photos of the scene; I sort of assume these are from around the same time Ramirez was doing his interviews, but that they probably don't show anyone he actually spoke to.

The Creepy Case Files of Margo Maloo

 
The Creepy Case Files of Margo Maloo

by Drew Weing

First Second

2016 

 

 

The Creepy Case Files of Margo Maloo is a kids' comic about a boy who moves to the city, discovers it's full of monsters, then learns that monsters aren't as scary as he thought. 
 
Our viewpoint character is Charles, an aspiring journalist whose parents have just moved into a fixer-upper apartment in a former hotel. Echo City is on the coast; it's a bit economically distressed, though maybe things have recently improved. The titular Margo Maloo helps out other kids who have monster problems. Her main rules for helping are that the monsters were here first and have at least as much right to a peaceful life as the human kids do, and that you can't tell any adults about the existence of monsters. 
 
Creepy Case Files has three chapters. In the first, Charles sees a troll in his bedroom at night. A neighbor kid, who really wants to set a world record for like hopping on one leg or standing on his head, gives Charles Margo's business card, and she shows up to help negotiate a peaceful resolution. The troll's annoyed that the hotel's getting remodeled, but he and Charles find common ground in their love of little stuffed toys that definitely are not Beanie Babies. In the second chapter, inquisitive Charles gets Margo to agree to let him tag along while she helps find a lost kid in an abandoned restaurant that's haunted by a ghost. In the third chapter, Charles is falsely accused of kidnapping a baby ogre. (He's been seen snooping around, and monsters have trouble telling humans apart!) Margo finds the baby and clears his name, with Charles taking on a Watson-like role.
 
Charles's parents dress like former Gen X alternative kids. They're excited by the DIY opportunities, and the fact that unlike in their old small town, the can get quinoa in the grocery store here, and carry-out from Korean restaurants. I feel like author Drew Weing included those details for parents who are reading with their kids to enjoy. Also for grown-ups' benefit - Charles's dad trying to explain the fraught ethics of gentrification to an disinterested 10-year-old, and dad clearly worrying that his White son isn't getting along with the neighbors before realizing Charles is talking about monsters, which are obviously just make-believe. The neighbor kid who wants to set a record is Black, and it seems like they will be friends. Margo looks Mediterranean to me. She's too much of a loner to consider Charles a friend, but by the end of the book, she might accept him as a partner in this monster business. 

Witch Hat Atelier 12

 
Witch Hat Atelier 12

by Kamome Shirahama

Kodansha

2024

 

  

The previous several volumes of Witch Hat Atelier set up all the pieces of a comprehensive disaster. Now they've been set in motion, and everything's in chaos. The girls have traveled to the annual Silver Eve festival, attended by witches from all over the countryside and by even more onlookers. The festival is a chance for witches to show off their newest spells and compete for royal patronage, and for the public to enjoy the spectacle. 

 

The king is there, ready to meet with the most promising inventors, publicly affirming the agreement about witches' role in society, while privately studying old forbidden healing magic. The Pact, you see, says that spells should only be cast on objects (never on people), prevents ordinary people from knowing the truth about magic, and bans witches from learning anything about first aid or medicine. The Knights Moralis enforce the Pact by erasing the memory of anyone who violates it (the only spell they allow to be cast directly on a person). So the king's secret is a serious breach of the law!

 

Coco and Tartah have started realizing they have feelings for each other. They also have serious doubts about the Pact. It's not just that Coco fears that saving her mother (who's been turned to stone) might require forbidden magic, she's also increasingly uncomfortable thinking about all the other people magic could help if it were used for healing. Coco feels especially guilty about Custas, who was injured and lost his dad in a landslide. The accident was partially caused by one of Coco's spells, which came out much stronger than it was supposed to. 

 

Custas is at the festival too, angry and volatile, using forbidden magic to compensate for his injured legs. And his dead dad is here, returned to a kind of cursed half-life by forbidden magic. The forbidden witch who taught Custas is here - she looks young and innocent, like one of the student witches. She wants an audience with the king, and extorts Coco to try to get one. Among her threats is the tantalizing promise that the king could truly heal Custas and his father.

 

The Knights Moralis are at the festival of course, there to prevent any breach of the Pact in the setting with the most contact between witches and ordinary people. They've arrested a very important witch, the old ambassador to the king, accusing him of taking bribes. And they've arrested a dirtbag witch who was selling magic glasses that can see through clothes (a very timely bit of commentary on Shirahama's part, considering one common use of AI image generators). One knight tried to arrest the forbidden witch who tutored Custas, but she turned the tables on him and erased his memory, taking almost everything he knew.

 

Now, in Witch Hat Atelier 12, in the king's jail, the old ambassador and the dirtbag plot to escape. The whole castle is warded against magic; it simply doesn't work inside. The ambassador draws a spell on the skin of the creep, with the idea that he can stick his hand out the window and get it to activate. (Apparently the ambassador already knew forbidden magic even if he didn't use it before his arrest.)

 

And that's what starts the disaster. As is so often the case, the king's jail has a guard monster, a leech that lived between the walls. When the creep sticks his hand out, the leech bites him, his blood mixes with the ink used to draw the spell on him, and everything goes wrong. The leech and man merge into one gigantic being, an impossibly vast multi-headed creature, like a net thrown over the entire festival biting at everyone there. 

 

The ambassador wryly observes that this is the secret reason for banning magic medicine and spells cast on bodies - that blood mixed with ink produces extraordinary, unpredictable results. This is a totally different justification than we've heard previously! (The avalanche that injured Custas happened after a forbidden witch replaced Coco's ink with something much more powerful. Could it have been as simple as ordinary ink mixed with blood?)

 

This is a disaster that could kill countless people. Olruggio and other adult witches use fire spells to burn the monster. The Knights Moralis try to fight the leeches and evacuate the public. They want to keep people safe, but they also fear too many people witnessing just how easily all the helping magic they've been seeing at the festival can be used as a weapon of war. In a moment of irony, the forbidden witch who looks like a school girl gets rescued from the leech by the knight whose memory she erased - he doesn't remember her, or anything really, but he still feels a duty to protect others.

 

Tetia and the other girls feel helpless watching ordinary people bandage the wounds of the injured, and start having doubts just like Coco's. Why shouldn't they do something to useful? In the chaos, Coco confesses what she's been thinking to Master Qifrey. His reaction isn't instant rejection as she feared it would be. He understands her doubts about the Pact.

 

Right now everything is chaos and everyone is in danger. The leeches can just barely be held back, but seemingly not truly injured or defeated. It's an ongoing disaster, and it'll continue in the next volume.

Gnomon

 
 
Gnomon

by Nick Harkaway

Knopf

2018

 

  

Gnomon is a very literary scifi mystery novel set in a dystopian near-future Britain. We follow Inspector Neith as she tries to determine responsibility for a death in custody of an elderly privacy advocate. Was she simply too old, stubborn, and frail? Or were her interrogators at fault for pushing her too hard, beyond what anyone could endure? To find the answer, Neith downloads a recording of victim's thoughts during the session - but instead of just one woman's memories, she finds four other people's stories too. Is it possible they could be true, or are they just a trick the woman used to avoid revealing herself? 

 

The System is a surveillance state that styles itself as a perfect democracy. Everyone is being watched all the time, not only by ubiquitous cameras and their own smart phones, but by their whole internet of things, fridges that know what they eat, washing machines that monitor alcohol intake and run pregnancy tests. But only the machine sees any of this, unless it flags something for human review, which will be conducted by a member of the Witness, like Inspector Neith. 

 

Everything is decided by direct democracy - sometimes by a jury-like subset, and sometimes by a plebiscite of the entire public. The machine decides who will vote, tallies the totals, and enacts the results. The machine, we are told, is perfectly fair and impartial, seeing everything and treating everyone the same, without the possibility of discrimination or corruption. (Though later we are asked to contemplate what it would mean if some people got preferential treatment, or if the electorate for some votes were chosen to ensure the result.)

 

Sometimes the System marks someone as suspicious and requires them to submit to questioning. If human Witness agents can resolve the suspicions, they will. But if the suspect refuses or seems dishonest, the machine can quite literally read their mind. The death Neith is investigating was someone who died while her thoughts were being recorded; in addition to traditional modes of investigation, Neith plays the transcript, meaning she experiences everything the dead woman thought from the moment they hooked her to the machine until she died. The substories framed by this main plot are narratives the woman was thinking at her interrogators, tales she was telling to avoid revealing herself, and perhaps to communicate another hidden message.

 

The title of Gnomon refers to a tool for drawing right angles, or a thing that is perpendicular to its surroundings, like the upright hand of a sundial, or it could refer to one who knows. The gnomon will recur in one form or another in each of the substories, and that's really just the start. There are a host of recurring images that repeat across the tales and accumulate new meanings and significances as they reappear, including five-factor authentication and the idea of a truth that can only be understood by superimposing multiple allegorical reflections, which doubles as advice for how to understand this book as a whole. There are frequent incidents of metalepsis, when events in one level of the story seem to affect another, and the kind of 'rhymes' Fritz Lang often used as scene transitions, like when one story ends with a character being kidnapped with a sack over his head, and the next starts with a different character being kidnapped the same way.

 

The structure of the book is a much-extended version of a traditional detective story, and that familiar formula helps you avoid getting lost along the way, which is important, because the substories are probably collectively longer than the frame story, and certainly they're long enough individually that you could lose track of where you are within the whole. Cloud Atlas famously used recurring themes and images across several stories that spanned over time and place, but in Gnomon, the substories are much more explicitly linked together. Remember that each of these stories supposedly has the same teller - the woman being interrogated by a machine that records her thoughts - even though there are multiple narrators, each so fully realized that they feel like an authentic person in their own right.

 

There's Constantine, a Greek math genius who became an investment banker. We join him as be has a life-changing encounter with a shark, which sends him on a stock-trading hot-streak, turning his life into a bacchanal while he ascends to multi-billionaire wealth. There's Athenais, an alchemist from Carthage and the former lover of St Augustine, who's asked to investigate an impossible murder and realizes she has a chance to make the mythical Alkahest. There's Berihun, a retired Ethiopian painter living in London who gets inspired to paint again by his genius granddaughter, who's making a video game about mass surveillance. Both Constantine and Athenais are mourning a dead loved one, and are offered a supernatural opportunity to be reunited. Constantine and Berihune's stories take place at the same time, starting before the Brexit vote and continuing a few years after. And then there's Gnomon, an artificial intelligence from the far future who has supposedly traveled back in time and occupied a human body on a mission to kill the other characters.

 

While Neith starts out convinced that these stories are nothing but a distraction, of course, I as a reader want them to be more than that. Granted, the whole novel is a work of fiction, actually entirely written by Nick Harkaway - but within that larger fiction, the stories are sub-fictions or hypo-fictions, they are presented as bring fictional even within the 'real' world of the larger fiction, and so I found myself questioning how 'true' they were supposed to be. I spent a fair bit of time considering that Gnomon the narrator might genuinely be a consciousness from the future. I do think that one of the narratives originally came someone else who was interrogated by the System, understanding how that story got inside this suspect's head is one of the many, many revelations you learn along the way.

 

I think of success of Gnomon the novel depends on the substories; if they were just a distraction, if they were merely well-told tales that are fun to read, then the book as a would be less successful than if they are (within the larger fiction of the novel) in some sense 'true'. Within these stories is hidden an account of how the System came to be, the story of someone who was horribly mistreated by it, and an account of why the woman being interrogated came to be arrested. Some of it is lightly fictionalized, some very allegorical, some extremely literal, and all of it told in such a way that the meaning and significance of what you've learned is revealed only after you've learned it, so the truth of each story propagates backward in time, changing the meaning of the stories in your memory as you think back over them. I think Harkaway was very successful here, in a way that's clearer now as I write this than it was when I first closed the book.

 

Lest you be worried, Harkaway did not cast Inspector Neith as a true believer in the perfection of the System, only to have her finish the case convinced she's right, that distributed democracy can't be manipulated, that total surveillance is good, that privacy and secrecy are inherently unacceptable, and that having certain knowledge of what people have done means the accused deserve no rights. But giving the System a robust intellectual defense and a defender whose own conduct is above reproach makes the later turn against it more satisfying. It takes no special insight to oppose a society that's obviously capricious and unfair. Like any good detective story, Neith's own tale will see her finding flaws with the side she serves and seeking to correct them, a quest that will put her into alliance with the interrogated woman and opposed to the System that interrogated her to death.