Assorted Harry Potter-Related Books

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Conversations With J.K. Rowling, by Lindsay Fraser (Scholastic, 2000)
What’s A Christian To Do With Harry Potter? by Connie Neal (WaterBrook Press, 2001)
The Magical Worlds of Harry Potter, by David Colbert (Lumina Press, 2001)
The Sorcerer’s Companion, by Allan Zola Kronzck and Elizabeth Kronzck (Broadway Books, 2001)

Ever since the Harry Potter books became a worldwide phenomenon, propelling both author J.K. Rowling and title character to superstar status, it seems like people just can’t get enough of the world of Harry Potter, and the fantastic elements that make up the story of an orphaned British schoolboy who discovers his own wonderful (and often dangerous) destiny as a wizard. One thing’s for certain: Harry Potter’s no longer confined to the pages of the books bearing his name. There’s a full-length feature film coming out in mid-November, board games, statues, action figures, puzzles, stickers, Legoes, candy, stuffed animals, journals, calendars, and enough merchandise to make a certain cartoon mouse very, very jealous. In a handful of years, Harry Potter has all but taken over the world.

But why? Who can account for this astounding, mind-boggling popularity, eclipsing dozens of other fantasy authors, hundreds of childrens’ books, thousands of stories drawing on the same material? Why is Harry Potter almost a universal constant, while Nita Callahan and Kit Rodriguez (of Diane Duane’s Young Wizards series) remain answers to some children’s fantasy trivia quiz? How did J.K. Rowling shoot to the top of the charts, while the venerable Diana Wynne Jones has spent decades in a pleasant mid-level obscurity, popular only among British readers and the rare resourceful American fan? Good question. My best guess is that it was just the right time and right place, sort of an invocation of zeitgeist, the spirit of the times. The conditions were just right for that one moment, striking just the proper chord within the hearts of the readers, and resonating outwards to encompass the world. Far-fetched? Nonsense. Had Rowling been a year earlier, or a year later, who knows what result her books might have struck, and what writer would be popular in her place? Just like atmospheric conditions need to be just so to create a rainbow, cultural conditions were aligned, and the next thing we know, we’re buying Hogwarts toilet paper and Hagrid-style overcoats, and begging our parents for three-headed puppies and baby dragons.

The point is, we can’t get enough to satisfy our cravings between books. We’ve had four courses in a projected seven-course meal, and the chef’s taking her own sweet time to make sure the next course is absolutely perfect.

But our stomachs are rumbling, and people start passing around the rolls and butter. That’s exactly what the books I’m about to discuss are. They’re the bread and butter to keep us from starving while we wait eagerly for the next installment of the Harry Potter feast. They explore all the various aspects of the books and their creator, expanding the universe, extrapolating from facts and rumor, and giving us something to occupy our fancies. In all but one case, they’re unauthorized by the author, but allowable under various fair use laws, taking advantage of our desire for Harry Potter to give us something a little different.

The first book I’ll bring to your attention is the only one actually authorized by Rowling and her American publisher, Scholastic. Entitled Conversations With J.K. Rowling, it’s both an overview of her books and rise to stardom, and a compilation of questions asked in various interviews she’s given over the past few years. With material drawn from O, the Oprah Magazine, Newsweek, Entertainment Weekly, and the Larry King Show, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted to know about Rowling, straight from her own experiences. What she was like as a child (oldest of two girls, she once ate Play-Doh when her sister was born), what pets she had, what her family was like (they read a lot), her experiences in school (one teacher, classifying her as ‘dim’, later became an inspiration for Professor Snape), what she likes to read, what she did after she left school (Exeter University, with a year teaching English in Paris), and so on. While it’s not exactly deep philosophical reading, it’s fascinating to hear the little details of what molded Rowling into the person she is, and the person she was when she first started writing the series. For instance, although she first thought up the initial concepts, including Harry, Ron, Hagrid, and Peeves, early on in her adulthood, it took her five years to fully plot out what she already knew would be a seven book series. It can safely be said that she had a fair idea of who was who, what was what, and what would happen before she even really got started writing the first book. While she was still married when she began writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, at the tender age of twenty-eight, she didn’t truly get down to business until after the marriage failed and she moved to Edinburgh, where she wrote in a cafe belonging to her brother-in-law.

It’s a thin book, with much of the page count given over to the questions asked in the primary interview, stitched together in thematic sections about childhood, school, her writing career, and her new fame. The rest of the book goes into an overview of the four books released thus far, a brief analysis of the characters and situations, and a reprinting of questions asked by the above sources to accompany the release of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. You won’t find any grand secrets hiding here, no hints about the next books or things you can’t learn reading the series. There’s no shocking details of Rowling’s brief career as a CIA assassin or circus midget (both jokes, people, I promise!). It’s harmless, inoffensive, and as pleasant as a nice cup of tea with one of the world’s most popular authors. It’s fun to see where Rowling came from, and how some of her ideas took shape originally, and to get a feel for what inspired certain characters. It’s interesting from a writer’s standpoint to see how she plotted it all out in advance over years, holding it together in her head originally and later writing down vast histories and backgrounds for characters. Maybe we’ll never see Sirius Black’s childhood, but rest assured, she knows what happened. So yes, Conversations With J.K. Rowling is a fun, companionable little book that would make a great stocking stuffer for the Harry Potter fan in the family, but like Chinese food, it only briefly satisfied me, leaving me hungry an hour later. (Again with the food metaphors. Maybe I should grab some Chocolate Frogs and Every Flavor Beans before continuing….)

Our next two books cover much of the same thematic ground, though they take somewhat varying paths along the way. The Magical Worlds of Harry Potter bills itself as “a treasury of myths, legends, and fascinating facts,” drawing its inspiration from the many mythological, supernatural and folkloric aspects found within the Harry Potter universe. It presents its material in the form of questions, ranging from “Why Are Harry And Cedric Like Knights Of The Round Table?” to “Why Is Each Malfoy Aptly Named?” to “Where Do Those Names Come From?” to “Did Alchemists Really Search For A Magic Stone?” and dozens of others. Intelligent and sly, this book manages to enlighten without getting too full of itself, pointing out the origins for witches, wizards, three-headed dogs, snakes, curses, trolls, and much more. By finding a question to ask in each heading, it attracts attention, and goes on to explain itself. Why, for instance, Hagrid would get Fluffy from a “Greek chappie” and why Sirius Black might become a large black dog. It’s packed full of information, touching on all aspects of Harry Potter’s world, showing the multiethnic and much-varied sources of inspirations and origins of the creatures, terms, themes, and people who make up the rich tapestry of the setting. Even the margins contribute, with frequent sidebars offering bits of trivia, historical interest, or notes to intrigue even the casual reader. It’s fun, and should be of interest to anyone with the slightest interest in mythology or folklore, even those unfamiliar with the books in question.

Moving right along, we have The Sorcerer’s Companion, which addresses many of the same themes and aspects, only in the form of an alphabetically-organized dictionary, ranging from amulets to zombies, with everything from arithmancy to herbology, grindylows to dragons, pixies to magic brooms, witches to werewolves. Again, the subject matter is informed and intelligent, covering each topic with examples taken from the Harry Potter books, and then delving into their literary, mythological, and historical roots. With accompanying illustrations, and a thorough bibliography citing both print and online sources, it comes off as a rather handsome, useful offering to all lovers of folklore. While it could stand quite well on its own without riding the Harry Potter gravy train, it does benefit from the association. Combined with the above book, it makes a lovely reference set, and one I find very little fault with. With everything from how to perform arithmancy yourself, to a brief guide on interpreting tea leaves, to rather in-depth discussions on the various kinds of magicians, wizards, and witches found in literature and in history, The Sorcerer’s Companion succeeds in providing both entertainment and enlightenment.

This isn’t to say that one book is better than the other; on the contrary, they complement and reinforce one another, overlapping at times but covering substantial ground on their own. The Sorcerer’s Companion has a much prettier cover, one bound to catch the eye from the shelf, but they both stand on an equal footing.

Finally, we come to the most interesting and unusual Harry Potter-related book in the lot. What’s A Christian To Do With Harry Potter? is an intriguing, highly intelligent, rational look at both the pros and cons of Harry Potter from the viewpoint of a Christian, in this case author Connie Neal, who’s covered the subject matter for Today’s Christian Woman and the 700 Club website. She examines both sides of the Harry Potter debate with an informed, critical eye, debunking the myths linking Harry Potter to Satanism and evil, and giving the reader more than enough information to make an educated decision based not on hearsay and criticism, but on fact and personal preference. Drawing extensively from the Bible, putting Harry Potter against the Scriptures, she shows how the books can be used to teach, educate, and suggest a right course of action for children.

First off, she covers both sides of the debate, laying out arguments for and against Harry Potter, drawing from extensive sources and essays to show just how far-ranging the topic is. She displays enough examples to show that there is no one consensus, and why some people favor the books and others shun them. One rather telling essay was simply a list of the top ten things learned from the Harry Potter books, from an eleven-year-old reader. So where do people stand? Everywhere, it would seem.

Next, the author goes into a brief overview of the books, laying out the basic characters and terms succinctly, so that even a casual reader will understand who Dumbledore is, what a Slytherin is, and how Quidditch works. There’s nothing new in this chapter to the experienced reader, but it lays the groundwork for the arguments to come in the next chapter, “Classic Fantasy, or Blatant Witchcraft?” In this chapter, Neal cleverly shows how one person can look at the books and see innocent children’s fantasy, and someone else can see a recruiting tract for Satan Worshippers Of The World. It’s all in the viewpoint, and how you approach it. And sometimes, once made aware of this ‘new’ viewpoint, someone with an established opinion is able to understand both sides. Importantly, though, is the distinction made, that to condemn Harry Potter is to condemn the Chronicles of Narnia, A Christmas Carol, or The Lord of the Rings. Why don’t more Christians decry a story that deals with ghosts, speaking with the dead, astral travel, and the supernatural, instead of accepting that Dickens is telling a story of redemption? Why aren’t they up in arms over a series featuring a White Witch, talking animals, and lands beyond the here and now, instead of reading the Narnia books as the Christian allegory that they are? It’s all in the viewpoint, the social conditioning, and personal beliefs. Harry Potter is no worse than the above books, but because the series is seen differently, some people treat it differently.

Then we’re treated to a look at -why- children love Harry Potter, and what specific needs the books fill in their hearts, and why these are necessarily bad things. What kid wouldn’t want to feel special, empowered, older, stronger, famous, loved, or wanted? How many can identify with Harry for the life he leads or the destiny he holds? The books appeal to their thrill of victory, their deeply felt emotions, their desire to be the best they can be, a desire to belong, a need to conquer fear and so forth.

My favorite chapter would have to be the next one, which quite cheerfully asks, “What Would Jesus Do With Harry Potter?” Spinning a riff off of the popular WWJD merchandise, it explains that he’d encourage the readers to decide for themselves. That he might use the Harry Potter stories as parables for his own teachings, ask what they’d see if they looked in the Mirror of Erised, and show how it related to their internal struggles, compare the goodness and trustworthiness of Dumbledore to the goodness and trustworthiness of God to show the need for such a figure in our lives, or even compare Harry’s discovery of a magical world beyond the mundane to a Christian’s discovery of a heaven beyond their world. In short, there’s plenty that Jesus might do on a positive level. There’s more in this chapter than I could cover here, but it’s clear that Neal has the argument down pat, showing how the Scriptures can interpret and refute many of the arguments. But in short, she stresses the importance of making up your mind free of outside influences.

After that, Neal goes into details to refute many of the subtle snares found in the debate. For instance, she shoots down some aspects of the argument against Harry Potter by pointing out that the source material for some of the accusations was the Onion, an online newspaper that parodies and satires just about everything, and has no basis in truth. She sums up the chapter by suggesting that the reader have nothing to do with stupid or foolish arguments, aim to be logical and consistent, and ask God for wisdom. Another important chapter follows it, in which she outlines many ways to protect children from occult influences in the real world, including a whole host of Nevers. (Never try to consult the dead, never offer your children as a human sacrifice, never cast spells….)

We then have chapters on engaging in our culture without disobeying God, and relating Harry Potter to the Judeo-Christian ethical system, showing how the events of the books may be used to teach morality, the importance of following your heart, and when it’s okay to break one rule to uphold a higher law. Other chapters go into detail on using the books to help children grow into goodness, and using the books to preach the Gospel.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a very religious person, and my tastes don’t always lean towards Christianity. There are aspects of the book I feel uncomfortable with, especially where she condemns all witchcraft in favor of the Christian god, and where she gets just a little too preachy for my tastes. But objectively speaking, this book is fantastic, fascinating, and utterly involving. It teaches, educates, enlightens, and never says something without backing it up. This is the perfect book to give to those people who might have been avoiding Harry Potter ‘because of all them witches and wizards’ or because it promotes magic and fantasy. In its guise as a teacher, What’s A Christian To Do With Harry Potter? succeeds so well that it overcomes my natural distrust of blatant religious beliefs. Even if you’re not Christian, you might enjoy seeing how the Harry Potter books can be used to promote positive thinking, and help children learn a proper set of values. Highly recommended, and the best book of the ones reviewed in this article.

Harry Potter: The First Four Books, by J.K. Rowling (Scholastic, 1999/2000)

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Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (Scholastic, 1999)
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Scholastic, 1999)
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Scholastic, 1999)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Scholastic, 2000)

There exists a world of magic and adventure, monsters and myths, witches and wizards, coexisting in secret with our own world. Look out of the corner of your eye, and a man in an emerald green cloak will be rounding the side of the building and out of sight. Take a second look at that tabby cat: is it looking at the street signs, or is it -reading- them? Owls swoop by in broad daylight, cars take flight, and a mysterious train departs from an invisible gate in a London train station. Somewhere in the wilds of Scotland, there exists a castle hidden to all non-magical eyes. Not only do dragons exist with such breeds as the Welsh Green and Norwegian Black, but there’s an entire bureaucracy set up to make sure we never see them. This is a world where magic is real, where legends live, and where dreams come to life.

Welcome to the world of Harry Potter. Ever since the release of the first book in the phenomenally popular series, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (its original title, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, was changed for the American editions), this world has been capturing the interest and imaginations of people around the world. Like the Land of Oz, the kingdom of Narnia, and the realms of Middle-Earth, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry has commanded our full attention.

Who hasn’t heard the story by now? Unbeknownst to us mere mortals (Muggles), there exist entire communities of wizards, warlocks, witches, sorcerers, hags, enchanters, trolls, goblins, and much more. Some live among us, but most live apart, hidden from prying eyes by spells and misdirection. Somewhere in London is an obscure pub, The Leaky Cauldron. Tap the right bricks in its back courtyard, and you’ll be transported to Diagon Alley, where you can buy anything at all related to the magical world, from spell ingredients to flying broomsticks to owls to schoolbooks. It’s also home to a branch of Gringotts, the goblin-run bank which is one of the safest places in the world for your wizard money. Locate the hidden platform 9 3/4, somewhere in King’s Cross Station, and you can board the Hogwarts Express. Or maybe you’ll find a portkey, and be magically transported to the International Quidditch Cup, which is -the- sport of choice for wizards.

But there’s darkness in this society, and that darkness has a name and a personification. Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lord of the Death-Eaters. For years, he ruled the wizarding world in an iron grip of terror and treachery, killing those who stood against him, and making the world that much darker. Until the day when he attacked Lily and James Potter. Although he succeeded in killing them, something went far awry. Voldemort seemingly died, and all that was left was the infant Harry Potter, branded for life with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. And so Harry, the Boy Who Lived, unknowing savior of the wizarding world, was left an orphan, and sent to live with his despicable aunt and uncle, and their piggish son.

And so the story begins, with Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. Fast-forward, and Harry’s a boy of eleven. Nothing’s changed. His aunt’s a harridan, his uncle a narrow-minded prig, his cousin an oafish bully, and Harry lives in a cupboard under the stairs and gets hand-me-downs to wear. And while strange things have happened all his life, everything from regrowing his hair overnight after a botched haircut to speaking with snakes at the zoo, nothing at all could prepare him for the letters that begin arriving as his birthday draws near.

With those letters comes revelation, in the form of a giant bearded man with a heart of gold and a fondness for fierce creatures. Hagrid, Gamekeeper for Hogwarts, comes to introduce Harry to the world of his parents, the world that’s his by birthright and innate ability, the world that the Dursleys would have kept from him forever.

Harry is an archetypical hero: Destined For Greatness, Raised In Unknowing Obscurity. And every journey has its start. As he’s initiated into the ways of Diagon Alley, Gringotts, and Hogwarts, he finds the mysteries unfolding at every step. There’s stern Professor McGonagall, who turns into a tabby cat with alarming regularity. There’s Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard alive. There’s the oily, manipulative, sly Professor Snape, who hates Harry with a passion dating back to when Snape and Harry’s father were both students. Professor Binns, the ghost who never stopped teaching, but just left his body behind. Stuttering Professor Quirrel, who wears a turban filled with garlic to protect himself against vampires. And of course, Hagrid, who thinks nothing of naming giant three-headed dogs “Fluffy” or raising baby dragons in his cottage.

There’s the singing Sorting Hat, which divides all Hogwarts students into one of four Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Slytherin. Joining Harry in Gryffindor are his new friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Opposing Harry is the odious Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin if ever there was one, and his henchmen, Crabb and Goyle.

There’s Quidditch, the game played with fourteen players on broomsticks, several hoops, and four different balls. When Harry shows talent at this sport, he quickly becomes something of a hot commodity for the Gryffindor house team, which has its good points, and its bad. It’s all fun and games as long as no one’s trying to kill you.

Not all is copasetic at Hogwarts. Why is one particular corridor off limits?

What secrets does the Mirror of Erised hold? And what is the mystery of the Sorcerer’s Stone, and how does it tie into the potential return of the long-vanished Lord Voldemort? As the school year progresses, Harry and his friends will be tested to their absolute limits, mentally and magically. For time is running out, and even if they succeed, it may be too late.

As an introduction to the world of Harry Potter, this book is top-notch. It introduces all the major players, firmly lays down their defining personalities and motivations, establishes Hogwarts and the rest of the significant scenery, and begins to drop hints and clues for plotlines yet to come. The seeds for later stories are woven so deftly into this book that when they come due somewhere down the road, it’s easy to look back and see just where and how they came into play. Harry is likable, the sort of protagonist you can’t help but root for, and his sidekicks, Ron and Hermione, never quite manage to steal the spotlight, but neither do they ever truly go off-stage. These are strong characters, as are the vast majority of those found in the Harry Potter books. Draco Malfoy is slimy, Professor Snape is unctuous, Dumbledore is pleasantly batty, and Hagrid is well … Hagrid. Rowling succeeds in infusing everyone with enough energy to keep the ball rolling, and no one is entirely one-dimensional, which is a too-real possibility when working with such a large cast.

It’s well-told, easy and friendly like a good storyteller, drawing the reader in with a conversational tone that becomes more riveting when the stakes grow higher, and best of all, it’s suitable for children and adults alike, with a plot that’ll appeal to everyone, a simplicity of style that won’t daunt the average reader, and enough complexity and sly wit and clever wordplay to entertain those with more discerning tastes. Is Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone recommended? Oh yes.

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets picks up after the summer holidays, as Harry and his friends all prepare to go back for their second year at Hogwarts. Just about everyone’s back for this second go-around, with the exception of Professor Quirrel, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Replacing him is Gilderoy Lockhart, an egotistical, vain, self-centered, publicity-hungry gloryhound … sort of a cross between Fabio and a mirror-addicted snake oil salesman.

The year starts off with a bang, with threats against Harry’s safety, a masochistic house elf named Dobby, a flying car that loses control, and a willow tree that hits back. It soon escalates, as something seems to be stalking the halls of Hogwarts, petrifying innocent victims without warning. As more people fall victim, it’s soon clear that no one is safe, not even animals or ghosts. How is this connected to the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, and the rumor that only the Heir of Slytherin can be behind this? How is Harry involved, and why is his ability to speak with snakes such a bad thing? Who is Tom Riddle, and what secrets does his diary hold?

Once again, it’s up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to puzzle out the mystery before it’s too late. Something deadly is awake and free, and Hogwarts is its hunting grounds. No Mudbloods (wizards from mortal families) are safe. And when one of Harry’s closest friends falls victim, and another goes missing, he’ll be forced to confront the evil alone, and in the process, discover long-lost truths about Lord Voldemort….

What can I say? Boarding school was never this exciting for me. Secret chambers, ghosts, monsters, flying broomsticks, hidden passageways and talking paintings, and so much more abound within the pages of this book. More of Harry and his family’s backstory is revealed, and characters continue to grow and evolve. This is clearly a sequel to The Sorcerer’s Stone but can nonetheless be read on its own without any trouble at all. Rowling manages to keep a sense of introductory level in the story while pushing it to the next level of complexity. The dangers are a little more real, the stakes more personal, and the triumphs harder-won. Harry learns and grows in pace with the events, becoming a little bit wiser, and a little bit more resourceful. Whether he’s seeing the events of decades past, or sneaking into another House’s private areas, or using his Invisibility Cloak to gather information, he’s exhibiting an unrelenting heroic streak with enough curiosity to kill a herd of cats. Snape remains as nasty as ever, but he never acts without a reason. Hermione’s thirst for knowledge leads her to the brink of success, and the edge of abject failure. And Ron’s steadfast loyalty continues to bolster Harry when things get tough.

It’s clear that Rowling knows where she’s going. Now that she has the basics of her world laid out, she’s able to spend more time on plot and complexity and circumstances, as well as filling in the gaps bit by bit. While we see a few new characters this time out, the majority of the focus remains on the ones already in play, which is a good thing, as they’re all so much fun to watch. This book’s a bit more complex than the first, both in style and plot, and that too is a good thing, since it wouldn’t be so enjoyable if things remained stagnant. Recommended? Again, a resounding yes.

Harry’s third year promises to be just as exciting and dangerous as the first two were, if not more so. For now, a menace from the past has resurfaced to threaten the present. Sirius Black, notorious wizard, former agent of Lord Voldemort and convicted murderer, has escaped from the dreaded wizard prison known as Azkaban. And foremost on his mind, so far as anyone knows, is the overwhelming desire to serve his master once more … and kill Harry Potter. As if that wasn’t enough, Harry’s having visions of a great black dog, the mythical Grim, a creature which appears only as an omen of death. Only the possibility of visiting the local wizarding town, Hogsmeade, during this year can cheer Harry up.

Trouble abounds after a curse goes awry, and Harry finds himself on his own in the world, with the Grim haunting his trail and Sirius Black still out there looking for him, and the certain knowledge that the Ministry of Magic will punish Harry for his unauthorized use of magic. Only the Knight Bus can save him, and help him to get somewhere safe.

Once he’s back at Hogwarts for the year proper, Harry realizes the immensity of the problems at hand. His old enemy Draco Malfoy is back and worse than ever. Sirius Black is rumored to actually be on the Hogwarts grounds, impossibly. The only bright spot is Remus Lupin, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, an altogether sane and knowledgeable wizard who actually knew Harry’s parents. With his training, Harry might actually be able to withstand the dire powers of the dreaded Dementors, creatures of pure depression, emotional vampires who act both as guards for Azkaban and ruthless enforcers of wizarding law. They may be at Hogwarts to find Sirius Black, but Harry may suffer the consequences of their presence nonetheless.

Once again, questions abound. What deadly secret is Remus Lupin hiding? Where is Sirius Black, and what’s his role in the death of Harry’s parents? How’s Hermione managing to be in two classes at the same time? What is the mysterious Marauder’s Map? Who was Peter Pettigrew? And what is the connection between Sirius, Lupin, Pettigrew, Harry’s father, and the ever-popular, ever-baleful Professor Snape?

With murderers on the loose, malevolent energy-drainers haunting the grounds, and long-buried secrets coming to light, it’s sure to be an exciting, if hazardous, year for Harry in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The world he inhabits is fleshed out all the more, with some very dark shadows added to the mix. As the main character and series mature in tandem, a further level of complexity is added. The twists and turns — some of which have been building since the first pages of the first book — are bound to surprise and even enlighten. Building on what’s gone before, this is an immensely enjoyable, gripping story. As always, it can be read on its own, but reading the rest of the series will greatly enhance the enjoyment overall.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire takes us into Harry’s fourth year as a Hogwarts student. And if you thought things were exciting previously, well … in the immortal words of a great man, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

It all starts off with the International Quidditch Cup, which is -the- sporting event of the wizarding world. It’s Ireland versus Bulgaria for the Cup, and everyone’s eager to see what’ll happen. The money’s on Ireland, but Bulgaria has the infamous Viktor Krum to even the odds. Everyone’s turned out for the occasion: Harry, Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, Draco, Dumbledore, assorted Ministry of Magic officials, and some extraordinarily unwelcome guests known as the Death-Eaters … the former servants of Lord Voldemort. That’s right, not only is the Dark Lord himself still struggling to return to power, but his servants are likewise on the rise.

After such a dramatic event, Hogwarts looks to be positively boring by comparison. But then comes the news. Hogwarts is to be the host for the TriWizard Tournament, a competition held between Hogwarts and rival wizarding schools Beauxbaton and Durmstrang, a competition that hasn’t been held for nearly a century because of its dangers. The whole school is abuzz with the news. And once delegations from the rival schools come, it’s bound to get interesting. Maybe too interesting. Add to the mix the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, “Mad Eye” Mooney, once a reputed hunter of Death-Eaters and other evil wizards and creatures, now a paranoid man thought insane by everyone but Dumbledore. (Why is there a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher every year? Don’t ask.

Harry’s too young to compete in the Tournament, so he resigns himself to spectator status like all of his friends. The honor for competing as Hogwarts’ champion goes to Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff. So it’s to the complete bafflement of everyone when Harry is announced as a fourth contestant. And once chosen, there’s no backing out. Younger and less experienced than the other three, he’ll be tested to the absolute limit in a series of three trials, trials that could kill him if he’s not lucky.

Just another year at Hogwarts, naturally. If one discounts budding romance, dragons, the ever-growing threat of Lord Voldemort and his servants, classes, merfolk, the Winter Dance, a scandal-raking tabloid reporter of a witch, omens of doom and destruction, and all the other joys of being Harry Potter, that is. The plot twists, turns, bends and loops in an effort to raise the stakes and keep the tension high. Whether we’re worrying about whether Harry will survive a test by dragon, or survive asking a girl to the Winter Dance, we’re kept on the edge of our seats. Because in the astonishing climax, someone will die, and the Dark Lord will profit in a way none could ever expect. Harry will need every iota of knowledge, magic, cunning, resourcefulness, and friendship to endure his assorted ordeals.

By far the longest (weighing in at 700+ pages) and most complex (weaving multiple plots and subplots deftly), Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is both ambitious and pivotal, clearly setting the stage for the last half of the series. With a cast now numbering over a hundred, it’s impressive that anyone can keep them all straight, but Rowling never seems to lose track of where she’s going, and what she’s doing. Some characters may only have a little screen time, but all are memorable. Whether it’s the officious Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, the conniving Ludo Bagman, the seductive Beauxbaton champion, Fleur Delacour, the brooding Durmstrang champion, Viktor Krum, the intense Mad-Eye Mooney, or even the endearing house elf Winky, they all get their screen time and their chance to shine, contributing to the story in their own fashion. While some might accuse this book of meandering, or trying to bite off more than it can chew, it’s simply giving everyone what they want: more Harry Potter, and a more intense, sophisticated plot. This book doesn’t suffer from “middle child syndrome” at all, even though it’s the halfway mark for the projected series as a whole. While it ends with certain unanswered questions and cliffhangers, it’s a sure thing that they’ll all be answered in due time, even if not always in the way we expected.

There’s a lot of dismissal of the Harry Potter books as ‘just for kids.’ That’s most definitely not true. While written for children, they’ve proven to be just as popular and endearing with people of all ages, and for good reason. These are books that stand up against Tolkien, C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series, and the Oz books in terms of appeal, accessibility, and overall fun. If you love fantasy in the least, these aren’t to be missed. Quit avoiding them just because they’re ‘for kids’ or because they’re so popular. Open your mind and give them a fair chance. Because these books have captured the moment, and they’re not going anywhere.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to reread my copies. I just picked up a copy of the English paperback edition of the Goblet of Fire with the cover they use so adults can read it on the subway and not feel embarrassed by reading a so-called children’s book, and I want to see how it compares.

War For The Oaks, by Emma Bull (Ace, 1987/Tor, 2001)

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“When Faerie and my world intersect, does anything good ever come of it?”

Three ways to tell that it just isn’t your day:

1. You messily break up with your boyfriend, a complete jerk whose idea of managing the band you and he both play in is to send you to flirt with club managers.

2. You tell the boyfriend where he can shove said band, and quit, taking your guitar and best friend, and splitting, thus causing the (merciful) dissolution of “InKline Plain, the most misspelled band in Minneapolis.”

3. On the way home, you’re waylaid by the creatures of Faerie, in the form of a shapechanging, smooth-talking Phouka, and a water elemental called a Glaistaig. They don’t want much of you, really … just your body and presence as the Seelie Court goes to war against the Unseelie Court, all to decide which band of mythological creatures gets to influence Minneapolis. Oh, and since the Unseelie Court will probably try to kill you, the Phouka will protect you. In dog form and in human form, he’ll live in your apartment, shadow your every step, and drive you near insane with his roundabout comments. And he can’t even make coffee.

What? This hasn’t ever happened to you? Then obviously you’re not Eddi McCandry, protagonist of Emma Bull’s classic urban fantasy novel, War For The Oaks. But before you start patting yourself on the back, glad to be out of a tight spot, read on.

All of the above does happen to our hapless heroine, and that’s only the first few chapters. Before the story is through, and the last song sung, Eddi will experience the wildest summer of her life, fall in and out and in love again, start a band that isn’t destined to be “just the world’s best bar band,” and teach the creatures of Faerie a thing or two about messing with humans. Is it giving anything away to say that the band Eddi forms is ultimately named “Eddi and the Fey” or that the Phouka you hate the most can turn out to be the best friend you never expected to have?

Don’t think that things are as straightforward as they seem. After all, this is Faerie we’re talking about. About the only thing separating the Seelie and Unseelie Courts is a question of methodology, and respect for others. The line is a thin one at best. The Fey, after all, are capricious, whimsical, mysterious, and operate on a level completely alien to us. That’s one of the prices they pay for immortality.

When the Fey go to war, then, what’s to give the matter any weight? If everyone’s immortal, what makes this battle any different from children jousting with wooden swords? Simple. The presence of a mortal, bound to the effort, whose existence and presence convey mortality to the Fey. So long as Eddi’s on the battlefield … the Fey can bleed and die just like any human. That’s why Eddi’s drafted. To serve as the harbinger of death to the deathless, to bring mortality to the immortal, and to serve as the price the Fey must pay for their war.

But when the “person” picking her happens to be the aforementioned Phouka, a “common” Fey with some plans of his own, then Eddi’s involvement in War becomes much more than a formality.

How can I say so much, and not touch deeply upon the plot? Because this book is like that. It’s full of words. Beautiful, poetic words, that sing you a song, urge you into a dance, lull you into a sense of security, and weave a tale while you’re not looking. It’s easy to get lost in this book. Emma Bull is a musician in her own right, and she lovingly details the scenes revolving around music, songs, and the band with painstaking effort. She knows what she’s doing, and it shows. This book literally sings. Turn to any page, and I promise you, the text will be gorgeous, evocative, and occasionally as mysterious as the Phouka.

The characters are just as complex and memorable. First, naturally, we have Eddi, a strong-willed, defiant, intelligent, and quite competent woman who thinks nothing at all of standing up to the Fey, whether it’s the frustratingly roundabout Phouka, or the Queen of the Seelie Court herself. Eddi, described as a “madwoman with a crowbar” at one point, is no innocent bystander, nor is she helpless. She takes control of events, shaping them more to her liking, and Heaven help those who get in her way. Any Faerie who thinks her to be complacent because she’s a mere mortal is in for a surprise. It’s a measure of her strength of character that even the Fey respect her.

The Phouka is her bane, her protector, her nemesis, and her confidante. Possessing the ability to shapeshift between large black dog, and handsomely roguish man, he’s the personification of Faerie’s whimsical, clouded ways. Not only does he drag Eddi kicking and screaming into the world of the Fey, he protects her, educates her, and guides her. He rarely speaks his mind, leaving both Eddi and the reader to guess at his meaning, and find themselves wiser for the attempt. In the end, he gets exactly what he deserves. I won’t spoil it for you.

Willy Silver is an enigma wrapped in a mystery, a handsome stranger who shows up for band tryouts, and charms his way into the group with musical talent and charm. But he harbors a secret of his own, one that threatens to ruin the group dynamics before they’ve even gotten started. Hedge, the bass player for the group, is even stranger. He has the voice of an angel, the drumming ability of five men, and never speaks above a mumble. It’s rare to hear him speak clearly, and when he does, it’s never trivial. Carla is Eddi’s best friend, and perhaps the most down to earth of the whole lot. The only one whom Eddi can trust completely, Carla serves various purposes, including sounding board, reality check, and the occasional boot to the behind. The last member of the band, Dan Rochelle, is perhaps the least defined of any of them, but sadly, not everyone can take the limelight. He’s mostly there as a backup reality check, and to flesh out the dynamics of the band. And it must be said, it is in his nature to sort of fade into the background, especially with such a forceful personality as Eddi in the foreground.

There’s more, of course. Stuart Kline, Eddi’s ex-boyfriend. Hairy Meg, the brownie. Oberycum, consort to the Queen of the Seelie Court. A cast of thousands, most of which are trying to do in one another. And Bull manages to breathe life into them with a few words here, and a description there.

I’ll be honest with you. This is perhaps one of my favorite books of all time. It’s in my top five, out of the thousands I own. It’s the sort of book I can flip open to any page, and just start reading. The plot is just tight enough to keep its momentum, the narrative flows, and the story itself is different enough from the usual fare to catch the eye. I mean, really… Elves fighting a war to see who wins Minneapolis? Urban fantasy itself is nothing new, as any fan of Mercedes Lackey, Mark Shepherd, Esther Friesner, Tom Dietz, or Charles de Lint can tell you. The theme of Faerie fighting over mortal territory has been attempted, as in Charles de Lint’s book, Jack of Kinrowan . But folks, this is one of the classics in the field.

No review of War For The Oaks would be complete without a closer look at Emma’s other talent: writing beautiful lyrics. As any fan of the Flash Girls or Cats Laughing can tell you, her songs are simply gorgeous. Their presence in the book is subtly appropriate, and blends in seamlessly. Whether it’s the evocative “Wear My Face” which Eddi sings in the beginning, as a parting shot to her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Stuart, or the rousing anthem, “For It All” which captures the magic of Eddi and the Fey as a band, the songs are an essential part of the magic of this book. Another song, “Those Who Look Up” isn’t so named in the book, but comes at the very end, as part of a musical climax that metaphorically brings the house down, delivering a rousing conclusion.

Sadly, this song can’t be found anywhere else, unlike some of the others featured in War For The Oaks. I was informed that while it was recorded for the potential War for the Oaks movie, it was scrapped when that project fell through. But what that leaves us with is some gorgeous imagery and lyrics. Allow me the chance to quote one passage, and part of my favorite song from the book, and then I’ll move on:

“Dan played a keyboard line like a question that demanded an answer, and Willy punctuated it with a harsh chord. After two of those, Carla joined Willy with a distant growl of thunder on one of her toms. Hedge’s bass began to throb with the hungry rhythm of tuned engines and tires on pavement seams. There was the digitally sampled crash of a cymbal that went on and on, glass breaking in slow motion – And the band welled up behind it like water, into that first verse.” (p. 217)

That, my friends, is followed by “For It All,” of which I hereby quote my favorite bit.
“For it all, for it all
What you’re aching for,
Where the magic’s real,
and you’re like a fire in the sky,
when the deal calls for a sacrifice
And you know you can’t die.
For the edge the best ones live on,
For it all.” (p. 218)

Admittedly, it sounds a lot better as an actual song. Luckily, it exists in that fashion, and anyone wanting to know more can check out Cats Laughing’s Another Way To Travel . Most of the songs found in this book can be found on that particular album.

But lest you think that this rose doesn’t have its thorns, I’ll go ahead and point out what few flaws I can find. Emma Bull, as I’ve said, is a musician. She loves music. And when she writes about it, she has a tendency to lose herself in the words. This can leave the casual reader, or the musically disinclined, feeling out of the loop, and tempt them to skim over some of the scenes. And since the plot, and the very climax of the novel depend upon the musical numbers, this can be a Bad Thing. Perhaps.

That’s one flaw. I said a “few.” Unfortunately, try as I might, I personally can’t find anything else worth complaining about. This is a superb book, and my true regret is that Bull hasn’t written anything since that tops it in my opinion, and that includes her Bordertown work.

I’ll sum it up in one sentence: This book is a must-have, whether you like fantasy or not. It stands as one of the best examples of the urban fantasy genre around, equivalent to any of de Lint’s works. I’d be surprised if it didn’t obtain classic status fifty years down the road, long after the media tie-in empires have all collapsed into obscurity.

And by the way. This book comes with a soundtrack. Well, sort of. Most of the original songs featured in War For the Oaks can be found on one or more of four albums, all of which Emma Bull was part of. They are: Cats Laughing: Another Way to Travel and Cats Laughing: Bootleg ; and The Flash Girls: The Return of Pansy Smith and Violet Jones and Maurice and I . Several of these albums can be found reviewed on the Green Man Review site. Also, a few years ago, a trailer was made for a War for the Oaks movie, directed by Emma’s husband and collaborator, Will Shetterly. That review may also be found on this site. Go ahead and check them out. It’s time well spent.

For those of you who may have come in late, I have pleasant news. Tor, in their infinite wisdom, finally acquired the rights to War For The Oaks , which had been out of print for years, and has re-released the book in an absolutely gorgeous trade paperback edition. The cover is a striking, haunting, dark urban street, plucked right from the pages of the book, with the half-defined image of a great black dog (everyone’s favorite Phouka) lurking above the title. The fact that it looks as though Neil Gaiman’s quote, “Emma Bull is really good” is coming from the dog’s mouth is merely a subliminal message. Neil Gaiman is not a Phouka. Really.

To further sweeten the pot, this edition has a few extras added in. An introduction by the author gives us some insight into the mind and workings of Emma Bull, and how she still feels about the book that may have defined her career more than any other. A smartly-added appendix details a few steps of the long, strange road taken by Emma and her husband, Will Shetterly, as they’ve attempted to make War For The Oaks into a movie, complete with three scenes excerpted from the script, detailing things which originally took place “offscreen” in the actual book. It’s like seeing some of the outtakes from the book, making this, in effect, the DVD special edition version of the original book, in my opinion. So not only has Tor managed to return one of the best urban fantasies to the bookstore shelves, they’ve managed to improve on it, something I never really thought possible. Sleeker, darker, more dangerous, hopefully it’s here to stay for good.

In the interests of adding, improving, and making better, I hereby present a short history of War For The Oaks , written by me some weeks back in preparation for the novel’s return. Just like the 2001 edition is the Special DVD Edition, consider this an offering of the 2001 Special Edition of the WfTO review:

In 1987, Emma Bull revolutionized the way we look at the world around us with her debut novel, War for the Oaks , a no-holds-barred, fast-paced, magically written rock-and-roll fable about Eddi McCandry, a Minneapolis singer/musician who gets dragged into a supernatural war taking place out of mortal sight.

On one level, it was a story about the creatures of myth and legend, the Seelie and Unseelie Courts of the Faerie Folk, and their modern-day struggles against one another for control of mortal territory, a conflict most of us would never even imagine. On another level, it was a coming of age tale for Eddi, who learns to take her destiny in her own hands, seize the day, and grow into her potential as a musician in her own right, no longer defined by abusive boyfriends or second-rate bar bands. With such memorable characters as Willy Silver, the Phouka, the rival Queens of the Fae, and Eddi herself, War for the Oaks has become a modern classic (if such a term can be used) in the fantasy field.

Published originally by Ace, it was part of a small-scale renaissance taking place in the fantasy genre, with Emma Bull taking her place with Pamela Dean, Steven Brust, Ellen Kushner, Patricia Wrede, and, of course, Charles de Lint. Collectively and individually, they helped to flesh out and strengthen the “magical realism” or “urban fantasy” subset of fantasy that persists to this day in the works of Charles de Lint, Mercedes Lackey, Laurell K. Hamilton, and Jim Butcher, as well as many others. Thanks in no small measure to Terri Windling, the then-editor at Ace responsible for finding some of these authors, and publishing most of them, War for the Oaks seemed to herald a fundamental shift in style. While the great sweeping epic fantasies set in magical kingdoms are as popular as ever, it can’t be denied that the concept of magic in our own backyards is just as popular, and the idea of the Fae living amongst us is no harder to believe than Elvis sightings at the Kwik-E-Mart. So find yourself a copy, and get ready to rock and roll like never before.

When The King Comes Home, by Caroline Stevermer (Tor, 2000)

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“When the king comes home.” That’s what they say in the land of Aravis. When the king comes home, all wishes will be granted. All dreams will be made real. All will be well in the land. That’s what they say. The king in question is Good King Julian, missing and presumed dead for over two centuries and counting.

The throne is powerless; the true power rests with the Prince Bishop. When the king comes home, he’ll make it all right.

Hail Rosmer is a young woman, a would-be artist obsessed with the works of the legendary Maspero, a contemporary of King Julian who designed the city walls of Aravis, and the king’s crown. Studying under Madame Carrera, one of the great artists of the day, Hail dedicates herself to mastering her talents, surpassing her teacher, and matching Maspero’s own skills. All she has to do is live up to the exacting demands of Madame Carrera, continue to get along with her fellow apprentices, deal with the handsome young members of the guard who come to the studio to act as models, and continue her secretive and even illicit research into Maspero’s life and legend.

But she makes a mistake when she makes a copy of one of Maspero’s greatest works, purely as an intellectual exercise. Accused of counterfeiting, she has to flee the city before she can be arrested or worse. And as she abandons her life in the city and makes her way back towards the remote village of her birth, Hail Rosmer makes a discovery to change her life, and the very fabric of the nation. A scruffy, ill-dressed, ragged old beggar. Who’s the spitting image of King Julian.

When the king comes home….

The adventures that ensue are mindboggling and fantastical. The beggar turns out to be a man thrust two hundred years into the future through unknown sorceries. A man irrevocably, inexplicably, tied to Hail Rosmer.

The Prince-Bishop isn’t pleased by this at all. Not just because his position is threatened, but because there’s someone out there, a mysterious sorceress with the power to control the dead, to animate and influence legends from long ago. To perhaps place them as figureheads of an army, and take Aravis for her own.

Now it’s up to Hail Rosmer, the beggar, Hail’s friends, and the faded writings of the famous Maspero, to save the kingdom. To recast the crown, to strengthen the walls, to recreate the bond between king and land, and to thwart the evil designs which would bring war to Aravis. They’ll discover what mystical secrets tie together Hail, Julian, beggar, Julian’s long-dead wife, Queen Andred, and the evil sorceress. And in the process, Hail will discover the depths of her talents, and step away from Maspero’s shadow and into her own light.

When the king comes home ….

This is a coming of age fantasy, an epic tale of Renaissance-style culture, a story of love, magic, and obsession, and a charming exploration of desires mixed with deception. It’s a world that could have been our own, a land Leonardo or Michelangelo would have recognized, and a culture that can only inspire greatness.

It’s well-grounded in the realities of Hail’s life and thoughts, but still manages to capture a certain wide-sweeping sense of infinite possibilities. Magic has rules, and art has rules, and when they collide, anything can happen.

This was a fun read, much like Stevermer’s previous book, A College of Magics. The characters are believable and captivating, and the story never really loses track of where it’s going. On some levels, it reads like a young adult fantasy, but on other levels, it’s as complex as any ‘real’ fantasy. Pick this book up to see why Emma Bull says it ‘delivers you to the deepest of mysteries’ and Ellen Kushner says it’s ‘the best fantasy I’ve read in ages!’ I wholly agree.

Sylvia Tosun, Too Close To The Sun (Suntosea, 2000)

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Forgive me, for I have sinned. Like Smaug in The Hobbit, I am guilty of sitting upon a true treasure, neglecting to share it with anyone else. However, I intend to rectify that, by sharing with you the debut solo album by acclaimed New York vocalist, Sylvia Tosun, Too Close To The Sun.

Sylvia Tosun first came to my attention for her role as Fate in the most recent release by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, the rock/classical opera, Beethoven’s Last Night. I gave high marks to this album, with a special mention of Tosun’s role, which had caught my attention. Thus, when I was contacted and asked if I’d like to review her debut solo album, I leapt at the chance.

And now, much belatedly, here we are.

Hypnotic, dazzling, and compelling, the only flaw of this album is that it has set a standard by which Sylvia Tosun will be judged on her future releases, and it’s a very high standard indeed. It serves to show that she must have been holding back with the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, for given the chance to take the lead, she not only takes it, she blasts off into orbit. With a voice like a sultry angel, smoky and enchanting, Tosun comes off as too earthy for Heaven and too airy for the mundane world. She manages to exhibit a range and scope I’ve rarely encountered in other works, and after several dozen listenings, I still haven’t gotten tired of this album.

However, believe it or not, Sylvia Tosun is not the only thing that makes this a worthwhile listening experience, although this is most definitely her work. She’s backed by a truly exceptional group of musicians, whose collective efforts turn a lovely solo attempt into a rich and vibrant musical tapestry. Kudos then must go out to her musical cohorts, consisting of Julie Flanders (spoken word), Alison Cornell (violin, viola, keyboards, backing vocals), Harold Stephan (keyboard and drum programming), Ben Butler(electric and acoustic guitars), Doug Yowell (drums and percussion), and Michael Visceglia (bass). Any one of them would be noteworthy on their own. Collectively, they work wonders.

Julie Flanders, in addition to providing the spoken word vocals, is also Tosun’s cowriter, and wrote most of the lyrics for Too Close To The Sun.

While it seems like folly to pick a personal favorite from the songs available, I had to go with the first song on the album, “Runaway.” It manages to show off the ranges of Tosun’s smoky voice, ranging from sorrowful low notes to hopeful high notes, and all the shades in between. Backed by her talented companions, with a special note going to Alison Cornell’s mastery of the violin, Tosun sets the pace for the rest of Too Close To The Sun.

“Blue Sky” is something of a change of pace: quieter, slower, more of a ballad, giving more focus to the vocals, with only a subtle musical accompaniment, it further explores themes of hope, and belief, and self-worth, and love.

The title track, “Too Close To The Sun,” is different from the first two. Breathy and slow at first, it soon grows into a profound ballad, evoking a sense of love and loss, and conjuring images of Icarus, flying too close to the sun and ultimately falling from grace into the sea. It’s a worthy anthem to relationships, the risks we all take, and the pain we feel when they don’t work out.

“All This Time” takes a different approach (for a fourth time on the same CD), with a musical introduction that’s nothing short of magical and enigmatic, and Tosun’s throaty lounge-singer voice to conjure forth more images that resist mundane description.

Next up is “Just Six Numbers,” a mysterious and compelling tune that mixes barely-breathed spoken word, a Middle-Eastern musical sound, and Tosun’s ever-changing, ever-adaptable voice, which blends in with “Sleepless Dark Water,” a beautiful, if haunting, song that defies casual definition. Finally, there’s “Nothing More Than This,” which is another one of those evocative, emotional ballads, the perfect way to end the album.

Lest you think I’m heaping unearned praise upon Too Close To The Sun, I invite you to listen for yourself. Sylvia Tosun’s official Web site provides MP3 versions of all six songs, along with the lyrics, and even some Quicktime movies to accompany several of the songs. It’s also got commentary and quotes, a regularly updated schedule of where to see her live, and a photo gallery featuring photos of Tosun, taken by photographer/journalist Frederic Lagrange, and originally displayed in a Soho art exhibit by Japanese painter Kana Otofuji. As official Web sites go, it’s certainly worth checking out.

As for Too Close To The Sun itself, I can’t recommend it highly enough. It’s one of those rare albums whose only flaw is that there just isn’t ?enough-. Six songs is like a steak without the baked potato… delicious and enjoyable, but leaving one hungry for more. Without a doubt, if I’m ever in a position to catch Sylvia Tosun live, I won’t even hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity. This is not an album to be missed. You can buy the CD directly through the Web site, if the previews available online appeal to you. As for myself, I will eagerly be awaiting Sylvia Tosun’s next release.

The Wizard’s Dilemma, by Diane Duane (Harcourt Children’s Books, 2001)

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“My dog makes alternate universes, ones that no one’s ever seen before. They’re new.” -Kit Rodriguez, discovering something entirely new in his worldview

Even after everything they’ve seen, done, and learned, there’s still plenty of surprises left for wizards Nita Callahan and Kit Rodriguez. In The Wizard’s Dilemma, the fifth book in the popular Young Wizards series from best-selling author Diane Duane, the intrepid duo are matched up against a whole new set of obstacles, trials, and challenges, as they continue to fight the intricate machinations of the Lone Power, the guiding force behind evil, entropy, and death.

In their first adventure, So You Want To Be A Wizard, Nita and Kit traveled to an alternate world to complete their initiation into the widespread society of wizards who serve the Powers, protecting life and slowing down the inevitable course of the universe towards ultimate entropy. In Deep Wizardry, they delved into the secrets of the ocean, meeting up with the cetacean wizards who protect that portion of the world. In High Wizardry, the initiation of Nita’s little sister, Dairine, as a wizard took all three to distant planets and a galaxy far, far away. A Wizard Abroad saw the partnership of Nita and Kit split for the first time, as Nita journeyed to visit relatives in Ireland, a vacation which would ultimately have both Kit and Nita exploring times past, and the mythological secrets of an ancient land. And finally, in The Wizard’s Dilemma, their adventures take on both macro levels, as they explore a panoply of strange new universes, and micro levels, as they discover that we are each our own universe.

It’s the start of a new school year, and the pressures of high school bring on stresses of their own for Nita and Kit, who’re finding it harder and harder to spend time together, despite the emotional strength of the partnership they’ve developed over the past few years. When an argument goes awry, it looks like it may be the end of their time working as a team, as they each go off on their own tangent. Even after the initial flare of tempers dies down, and they both start to see the other’s side of things, it’s no guarantee that they’ll get back together, when separate discoveries and tasks take them both in different directions.

For Kit, it’s the discovery that his dog, Ponch, is capable of creating entirely new universes, ones never before seen, ones capable of existing on their own after the initial generation. When the Powers charge Kit and Ponch with further exploration, he’s truly out of this world at the time when Nita needs him the most. For she’s faced with something much more mundane, and much more personal: her mother is diagnosed with a brain tumor. Cancer. And it doesn’t look like there’s any way to cure it on the mundane level. Naturally, she turns to magic, a path which leads her beyond this world as well … just not in the same direction as Kit.

Their partnership in tatters, their schedules radically opposed, their concentrations set upon other matters, it may be the end of Kit and Nita. And if either of them fails, Nita’s mother will pay the price. Lives and universes hang in the balance if the teenaged wizards don’t grasp the lessons they’re given. And just to add another wrinkle into the mess, when the Lone Power comes calling with a particularly tempting bargain for Nita, her mother’s life in exchange for the one price Nita doesn’t dare pay, it looks like she may just start playing for the wrong team after all ….

I’ve been reading this series for years, and to get another book starring Kit and Nita was enough to make me jump for joy. To my immense delight, this book doesn’t disappoint in the least. Possessing all of the rich characterization and fantastic ideas that have made Diane Duane’s previous books so much fun, it’s proof that she’s still at the top of her game. It’s fast-paced, taking place entirely within the span of a week, from Friday through next Friday, constantly on the move. The stakes are high, both on a personal level for the characters, and on a universal level, literally. The aliens are truly alien, exhibiting mannerisms, beliefs, and physical adaptations that render them believably different from the human characters. Even the magical system that’s so prevalent within this series is complex, ultimately flexible, but contained within entirely logical rules and boundaries.

For those who’ve read the series thus far, it’s a treat, as cameos by cetacean wizard S’reee, and feline wizard Rhiow, as well as supporting roles by Dairine and Senior Wizards Tom and Carl, solidly link this book to the others set in the same framework. New characters, like Ponch (the universe-creating dog), Pont (an alien wizard whose plurality gives them a unique view of the world), and the Transcendent Pig (who refuses to reveal the meaning of life, no matter how often you ask), further expand the potential and possibilities.

I couldn’t put this book down, staying up quite late at night to finish it. It hits a certain point, about halfway through, where it just starts moving at a breakneck, roller-coaster speed, and it doesn’t let up until the very end, an unexpected, unpredictable ending which still had the power to surprise me. The Wizard’s Dilemma is fascinating and intriguing, addressing the ethical concerns of healing without proper knowledge, the moral quandary of turning to your worst enemy when all else fails, and the responsibilities we all face in making the best we can of the world we live in. Evil has never seemed so subtle or tempting as when it takes on the face it does here. I can’t help but compare it to the latest season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, in which the title character likewise has to deal with her mother’s illness, a storyline which revealed that magic might not always have the answer. It also hit a personal note for me, since it made me reflect upon my own mother-in-law’s recent stint in the hospital, and how lucky she was to get the help she needed. Far scarier than the thought of losing a battle to the Lone Power on a distant planet is the thought of losing a loved one to a disease that can’t be fought so easily.

Truly, The Lone Power, Nita, Kit, Dairine, and Diane Duane herself are in fine form, making this quite possibly the best book of the series to date. It just goes to remind us that long before Harry Potter made his debut, the Young Wizards series was exploring some of the same ground, and a lot of new territory. I highly recommend The Wizard’s Dilemma as one of the best books I’ve read in a long time.

“Trouble is, someone changed the location of “normal” and didn’t bother sending me a map.” -Nita Callahan, reflecting on the changes in her life caused by the events of A Wizard Abroad

The Wild Angel, by Pat Murphy (Tor, 2001)

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After a brutal murder deep in the gold rush hills of California leaves her orphaned, young Sarah McKensie becomes something straight out of dime novels, a creature inspired by Burroughs and fleshed out by Kipling: the Wild Angel. Feral, raised by wolves and become more wolf than human, she roams the Californian wilderness, while the legend of the phantom child with the red-gold curls captures the imaginations of the hard-bitten miners and trappers who call the untamed frontiers home. But one man, the same one who killed Sarah’s parents, hunts her while wrapped in his new cloak of respectability, ostensibly to rescue this poor child from the dismal fate of forever living feral, but in truth to silence her, lest his own secrets be brought to light.

As years pass, and Sarah McKensie grows older, stronger, faster, capable of taking down mountain lions and bears with her bare hands and cunning, able to keep pace with the wolves as one of their own, her story becomes intertwined with Max Phillips, the man who first discovered her parents’ bodies, an artist deeking redemption for his own checkered past. He’ll teach her to communicate with her own kind, and befriend her, and provide a link back to civilization, and he’ll do it through … biscuits? Stranger things have tamed the savage beast. Also wrapped up in Sarah’s story is Audrey North, the aunt Sarah knew she had, Helen Harris, a young woman who’s never known her father and who seeks adventure, Miss Paxon, a Temperence preacher who tells fortunes on the side (or is she a fortuneteller who preaches on the side?), and the amazing Professor Gyro Serunca, a man quite skilled with getting people to part with their money for the wonders of his traveling circus.

Sooner or later, everyone comes to the mining town of Selby Flats, and when they do, the legend of the Wild Angel will explode into full color for a fascinated audience. Sarah and her parents’ killer will come face to face, and truths will be revealed in the best storytelling fashion. Action, adventure, jailbreaks, feats of acrobatic derring-do, an elephant, The Ancient Order of E Clampus Vitus, wolves, love, family members new and old, and secrets told will make this a good, fun story for everyone.

Mind you, it’s also part of a metafictional, metatextual three book experiment perpetrated upon us by the author, since while the cover says it’s by respected author Pat Murphy, the true byline is that of fictional author Max Merriwell, writing as equally fictional author Mary Maxwell. Several layers removed from the real world author, it’s a pseudonymical work of art. It comes on the heels of There And Back Again, a space opera retelling of The Hobbit “as written” by Max Merriwell, a fictional author who, it’s said, writes three books a year: science fiction under his own name, fantasy as Mary Maxwell, and mystery as Weldon Merrimax. One can only imagine what the third and final book in this experiment, Adventures In Space And Time With Max Merriwell by Pat Murphy, will be like. All we know is that it will star Max Merriwell, and tell of the events that befall him while he’s writing There And Back Again and Wild Angel. Does your head hurt yet? Mine certainly did the first time I tried to wrap it around this project.

Removing that from the equation, we’re left with a very competent, capable, entertaining myster/western/fantasy that combines elements of Rudyard Kipling’s Mowgli and Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan, to create a feral beast-child with an American edge. Recommended, and highly enjoyable.

The Silent Gondoliers, by William Goldman, (Del Rey, 2001)

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Once upon a time, William Goldman brought us The Princess Bride, that classic tale of true love, treachery, revenge, heroics, high adventure, and the victory of beauty and truth over death and selfishness. Well, actually, he brought us the “Good Parts,” edited from S. Morgenstern’s lengthier tome of history and social satire. If you’re interested in that, a full review can be found here. While many people might be familiar with The Princess Bride and the movie made from it, very few people know that S. Morgenstern wrote another book, a fable recounting the near-legendary singing gondoliers of Venice. Thankfully, William Goldman has done us all a great service in making sure that this classic tale doesn’t go unnoticed any longer.

What’s that? S. Morgenstern doesn’t exist? I beg to differ. It says right here he’s alive and well and living in Florin City with family. What, there’s no such place as Florin City? Nonsense, how can he live somewhere that doesn’t exist? Oh, just trust me on this. William Goldman, screenwriter and best-selling author of books such as Adventures in the Screen Trade and Which Lie Did I Tell? would never try to pull a fast one on us. Really.

Anyway, The Silent Gondoliers is the tragic tale of the last of the singing gondoliers of Venice, who once possessed the finest singing voices anywhere. Why, the least among them was capable of putting the great Enrico Caruso to shame. And when I say the least, I mean that this one fellow was ranked no less than 53rd among his fellows. So the fabled Caruso learned, one Friday evening, just around midnight, give or take a few minutes, on June 11, 1903, in Venice, on the Grand Canal. With details such as this, it must be a true story! Suffice it to say, though the details of Enrico Caruso’s discovery are not important, it’s essential to understand that once upon a time, the gondoliers of Venice were capable of taking no less than nine of twelve gold medals in the World Voice Olympiad.

Quite simply, there were none finer. Their voices, their singing talents, were the pride of Venice and the gondolier dynasties they all descended from. To ride with them was an experience unparalleled. Morgenstern compares the sound to glass-like purity, and takes us back to a childhood experience that prompted him to tell this story, so many years later.

I keep digressing, but no more so than the good S. Morgenstern, and for good reason. The Silent Gondoliers is not a direct book, with a linear progression from beginning to end; it meanders like a walk in the woods, or a ride in a gondola, which brings us to Luigi, the hero of the story. Luigi’s talents with a gondola were as profound as the singing voices of his fellows. He could take a gondola through SPLAT Corner, the hardest stretch of waterway in all Venice, and he could do it not just forwards, but backwards, a feat to amaze any man. However, for all his talent, he possessed a Great Secret. One which would forever change the gondoliers.

He was a man in love. No, that’s not the secret. He was assigned the same spot as the previous three generations of his family, all of whom had been gondoliers. No, that’s not the secret either. He was determined to become the greatest of gondoliers. No, that’s not the secret either. The Secret — for it deserves capitals — the Secret was …

Brace yourselves.

This one’s truly shocking.

I mean it. To admit it would be to shatter all your illusions. I mean, it’s the sort of secret that could ruin a man.

Last chance.

But enough of the story. I don’t want to give away the ending. I don’t want to spoil how Luigi saved the city from the Four Day Whirlwind. Which was followed by the Killer Storm, which threatened all of Venice. Only one man could get to the Firehouse and alert them in time. Luigi. And so he went out into the storm …

Why are the gondoliers silent? Why do they no longer sing like they used to?

What does this have to do with Luigi, the greatest of them all? I guess you’ll just have to read the story, and learn for yourself. For sometimes, the best stories are the ones you seek out on your own.

Full of the same dry humor, witty commentary, keen observation, clever asides, and atmosphere that made The Princess Bride such a classic favorite, The Silent Gondoliers is a touching fable such as only S. Morgenstern could create.

With the unique and quirky illustrations of Paul Giovanopoulos, it’s whimsical, beautiful, lyrical, and as friendly as your favorite grandparent telling bedtime stories. First published in 1983, it was released in a new trade paperback in January 2001, and should be available just about anywhere. Look for it under G for Goldman, as he’s once again cleverly managed to put his own name above Morgenstern’s, as though he wrote it. We can only hope that future printings will eliminate this cheap hack, and elevate S. Morgenstern to the place he so richly deserves at long last. Goldman can go back to his own forty-five year plus career, and those Lifetime Achievements, Screenwriter of the Year awards, Academy Awards, and the much coveted English Academy Award. All of which he probably swiped from other unknown talents along the way. For shame, Mister Goldman, for shame!

(Disclaimer: Anyone who takes the above seriously is instructed to read The Princess Bride, preferably the new 25th Anniversary edition, as well as Which Lie Did I Tell?. This is a collection of William Goldman’s essays, including one which recounts the true story of how S. Morgenstern and his works came to be. A review of the above book is forthcoming. Now go, go, read the books. You’ll like them.)

Mythic, edited by Mike Allen (Mythic Delirium Books, 2006)

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Mike Allen may be best known at present time for his work editing the SF poetry magazine Mythic Delirium, but every so often he turns his attention to the fiction side of things, both as a writer and an editor. In Mythic, the first volume of a new anthology series, he brings several aspects of the SF/fantasy field together, creating something that’s neither fish nor fowl, but an enjoyable blend of both, kind of like a literary platypus: rich, strange, comical, confusing, thought-provoking and definitely memorable. In Mythic, over a dozen talented writers bring unique visions of fiction and poetry to life.

As far as fiction goes, my favorite tale was the haunting story of love and revenge amidst the coal fields in 30s West Virginia, “Cemetery Seven,” by Charles Saplak. In it, a young man, the son of the town doctor, discovers just how far some people are willing to go to exact justice, when a member of the most powerful family in the area victimizes a vulnerable girl. This is a campfire story, best told after dark with a superstitious audience, and the mood it conjures up just feels right. Were I to choose a story to best represent Mythic, this would likely be it.

Not all of the fiction is straightforward, though. Ian Watson’s “Saint Louisa of the Wild Children” is described as an “annotated hagiography,” following a straightforward incident as it passes from reality, into legend, into myth, the details getting as confused as the source over the centuries. It’s an intriguing piece, especially how it blends truth and fiction and flings it into the far future. What will the future make of us? Read this, and get a vague notion. Watson draws from all sorts of sources to suggest how time may erase a great many distinctions we take for granted in today’s popular culture.

Erzebet YellowBoy turns several popular fairy tales upside-down and inside out with “Misha and the Months” which discards all the most recognizable elements and keeps the core themes. You have a good child, a bad child, a wicked stepmother, some mysterious figures out in the woods, and a bizarre system of reward/punishment that leaves all the right people happy, but not always in the right ways. It’s clever, thoughtful, and manages to feel just like a classic fairy tale even though it’s brand-new. Or is it?

Richard Park’s “The Last Romantic” looks at things from the viewpoint of a dragon as he guards a princess and waits for his inevitable end. It’s rare that you’ll see the dragon as the tragic, vulnerable one, but Parks does just that, weaving elements of Native American mythology, classic fantasy, and modern life together.

Bud Webster turns in a truly unusual story, in “Of The Driving Away of a Certain Water Monster by the Virtue of the Prayers of the Holy Man, or What Really Happened at Loch Ness in the Summer of 565 A.D.” In short, it’s all about how the newly discovered diaries of the mythical Wandering Jew shed new light upon historical events. In specific, this story addresses how an abbot once chased away the Loch Ness Monster through prayers… and shows us how it really went down. I suspect that were there really immortals keeping diaries, they’d poke the air out of the balloons of history in exactly this fashion. Frankly, I hope so; Webster’s account is amusing, wry, and worthy of being read aloud for effect.

I will admit here that honestly, I don’t have much experience with poetry. At least, I haven’t had much experience with poetry since college, so in general, I don’t consider myself nearly as qualified to talk about it. But a good half of this collection is comprised of poetry, so let me try anyway.

First off, Larry Hammer’s “Pgymalion’s Marriage” is my favorite piece of poetry in Mythic. It follows the well-known story of Pygmalion, the sculptor whose statue of a beautiful woman came to life one day. Here, though, we see how Pygmalion and his creation differed, one a mortal man with mortal limits, the other a divinely-inspired statue made for love. It’s certainly a take on the story I never would have expected, and a wonderful use of classic myth.

Joe Haldeman’s “god is dead short life god” addresses humanity’s tendency to outlive its own gods, to replace them with increasing frequency over the centuries. Indeed, he asks how long the current crop of gods will last until replaced, and how short a reign their replacement(s) might have. Insightful and even provocative, it’s a memorable piece.

Lawrence Schimel’s “Kristallnacht” blends fairy tale (Cinderella) and history (suggested to be 40s Germany) in a beautiful, terrible manner, with layers of meaning there for the interpretation.

Hamlet’s doomed lover has her say in “Dissecting Ophelia” by JoSelle Vanderhooft. An ancient creation myth is blended with a tale of family in Cathrynne M. Valente’s “The Eight Legs of Grandmother Spider.” Theodora Goss evokes Christina Rossetti in “Goblin Song.”

All in all, I found quite a lot to enjoy and admire in Mythic. It’s not your average everyday collection, and I’m sure the balanced mixture of fiction and poetry is enough to confuse some people and turn away others, but it possesses a lot of appeal. There’s something for everyone, and who knows? Maybe you’ll find something you weren’t expecting. This is a strong start to a new anthology series, and hopefully we’ll see a lot more down the road.

Serpent’s Shadow, by Mercedes Lackey (Daw, 2001)

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I’ve always had a soft spot for the works of Mercedes Lackey. I discovered her soon after her first book, Arrows of the Queen, first in her long-running Heralds of Valdemar series, came out, and I stuck with her as she finished out that trilogy and launched into dozens of subsequent books. It’s safe to say that she was one of those authors who kept me relatively sane in high school, her works challenging my imagination, and her collaborations with other authors introducing me to such talents as Josepha Sherman, Mark Shepherd, Holly Lisle, and others. In fact, I think her works provided the backbone of my fantasy reading for a good four years, at the very least. I went to my very first real science fiction convention because she was the guest of honor that year. (A day visit to a previous con doesn’t count, since I wasn’t there long enough to really get the full experience on my own.)

I met Mercedes (or Misty) several more times in the years to come, usually finding her with her husband and writing partner, Larry Dixon, running into them at enough cons that they remembered me. That was then. In the years following, my tastes changed, and I no longer found myself reading as much of her work. For whatever reason, they didn’t have the same feel, or appeal, they once did. And Misty and Larry stopped attending the same conventions I did. So in a way, we parted ways somewhere along the road.

However, if you’ve seen my recent reviews of her last two releases, Brightly Burning and Beyond World’s End, you’ll probably have come to the same realization I have. Just because the roads split off doesn’t mean they can’t come back together once in a while. For whatever reason, Misty’s relit that fire in my imagination, revisiting the Heralds of Valdemar and Bedlam Bards, two of my favorite Misty Lackey series, and now proving that she’s still got unrevealed tricks in her bag with the stand-alone novel, The Serpent’s Shadow. See? There’s a method to my madness. It’s important to understand that with this book, she’s officially three for three in my opinion, and I’ll once again be eagerly awaiting her next books.

Set in the unbelievably exotic (by our standards) era of 1909 London, The Serpent’s Shadow conjures up the full force of the British Empire, when the sun never set upon it (because who’d trust the English in the dark?), when men were most assuredly men, women were suffragettes or second-class citizens, and horses were scared (of those newfangled motorized contraptions!).

About the worst thing you could be in that time and place was -not- white, male, upper-class, and British. So, for instance, a twenty-five-year-old half-Indian female doctor would be as out of place as a penguin in the Sahara. And about as welcome.

Nonetheless, that’s where our heroine, the good Doctor Maya Witherspoon, finds herself. After the death of her English father and Indian mother, she’s come ‘home’ to London, to do what good she can as a doctor, working as a women’s surgeon at St. Mary’s Hospital, as an all-around doctor at the Fleet Street free clinic, and in her own private practice, one dedicated to handling … well, women’s complaints. Those of a very delicate, and often illegal, nature. (Read: handing out birth control pamphlets, and helping the undeserving poor, the pickpockets, prostitutes, dancers, harlots, and scum of the streets.)

With her she’s brought the remnants of her family’s household, including the butler/bodyguard, Gupta, and her mother’s pets, who in themselves would constitute a small zoo. There’s Charan the monkey, Sia and Singhe the mongooses, Rhadi the parrot, Nisha the owl, Mala the falcon and Rajah the peacock. Unusually smart and perceptive, they hold the keys to some of Maya’s mother’s greatest secrets.

Life would be just fine, were it not for a few small, even inconsequential details.

Maya is a mage, what the British practitioners of magic would call an Earth Master. A healer, drawing her strength from the earth around her, and from the very land itself. Untrained and inexperienced, all of her work is done haphazardly, through instinct and patchwork.

She’s attracted the attentions of a secret society of British mages, who refuse to teach her on the grounds that she’s half-blooded Indian -and- a woman. Only one of them, a former sailor turned merchant, and Water Master, dares go against his fellows to work with Maya.

She’s developed enemies at work, in the form of a particularly racist, rude, arrogant man who’ll stop at nothing to ruin her.

She’s brought a dark and deadly enemy from home, a devout worshipper of Kali Durga, who dreams of destroying Maya, and then destroying all those Englishmen who’d dare mistreat India and its natives. This woman, “the serpent’s shadow,” may be the cause of Maya’s father’s death, and is certainly the reason Maya fled India and went into a sort of exile in London.

If this enemy finds Maya, there’ll be all manner of Hell to pay.

The true test of Maya’s abilities looms on the horizon as her enemies close in, and her training takes new and unexpected roads. If her allies can’t rally in time, she’ll be dead, and Kali, the dark Hindu goddess of death and destruction and chaos, will have unprecedented power in the modern world.

I was hooked from the start by the strong and complex character of Maya Witherspoon and the enigmas she represented, and by the richly detailed time and place the story was set in. It was a welcome and refreshing change from the norm, and I wouldn’t mind seeing more stories set in such fertile ground.

Certainly not a politically correct period or society, it was a vastly different world than the one we know.

The Serpent’s Shadow is gripping; once I started, I couldn’t stop reading until I was too tired to turn the pages. This is Mercedes Lackey in fine form, perhaps the best she’s been in years. I highly recommend it as one of those fantasies that tries something different and succeeds. She was able to flesh out 1909 London to the point where I could all but smell it, and I could easily believe in, and cheer for, the main characters. Even the minor ones had their moments of glory and unique characterization. It’s been a while, but I’m glad Misty’s back. I missed her. This is a book worth picking up, even in hardcover. And as a bonus, it comes with an absolutely stunning, gorgeous cover by Jody Lee, who’s done many of Lackey’s books. So go check it out for yourselves.