Short Fiction Month: The Day the World Turned Upside Down - Thomas Olde Heuvelt

Thomas Olde Heuvelt is the first Dutch writer to ever win a Hugo. It is a dubious distinction as he most likely owes his award in a large part to the antics of the Sad Puppies. In a category where he was the only nominee not on the Puppy slates, voters ranked his story alone above No Award. I very much doubt it is how he had hoped to win a Hugo, but given the snub it implied to the Puppies, it probably was satisfying nonetheless.

This story appeared as a booklet under the Dutch title De Vis in de Fles (literally: The Fish in the Bottle) in 2013. The first English publication of the story originally appeared in Lightspeed and was translated by Lia Belt. Belt is the translator of various big names in fantasy (Feist, Rothfuss) into Dutch. I read it both in English and Dutch for this review. The English version is slightly edited and omits a few bits and pieces from the Dutch original. The English word count being higher is probably caused by the widespread use of compound words in the Dutch language. Personally I didn't feel the edits improved the story. They are minor, but if you can, read the Dutch edition.

One day, gravity fails and the world turns upside down. Toby is a man suffering through a breakup with his girlfriend Sophie when it happens. While recovering from his landing on the ceiling, he sees she texted him. She left her goldfish Bubble at his place and will swing by later to pick him up. Considering it a sign she is still alive, Toby rescues Bubble and sets out to find her.

The story is essentially a metaphore. In his short fiction, Olde Heuvelt likes to play with images that are physically impossible. To literally portray a figure of speech or a metaphor. He did this in his other Hugo Award nominated story, The Boy Who Cast no Shadow (2013) as well.  Tobi's breakup turns his world upside down (Dutch: zet zijn wereld op z'n kop) and the world reflects his state of mind.

Olde Heuvelt has stated he wrote the story after a breakup so there is probably a bit more of the author in Toby. It is not exactly a flattering portrayal. Toby is hurt and it turns him into a selfish bastard really. While this may not be an unusual reaction there were a few things about Toby that bothered me. We see things entirely from his point of view but at the end of the story, I still had no idea why he loved her. How she hurt him yes, but what the basis for his attraction is, beyond the physical, remains unclear. It is entirely filled with negative emotions, to the point where he completely disregards the life and feelings of others as well.

I suppose one way to interpret it, is to draw the parallel between Sophie and Bubbles. Sophie is caught in Toby's fantasy of their romance like Bubbles is caught in the bottle. Sophie however, has the means to break free. In the end, Toby lets go, again both literally and figuratively, I was again struck by the difference it implied for the fate of Bubbles and Sophie. Toby doesn't consider this. He is entirely too self-centred to do so.

The one aspect I did like about the story is Dawnie (Fiep in the Dutch version), the young girl Toby meets along the way. Olde Heuvelt perfectly captures the way children can ask the most obvious questions an adult might overlook. She is more precious than Toby appreciates.

So is it a good story? Some would say it is. It is well written at some levels. Did I like it? Not one bit to be honest. Olde Heuvelt is right in that letting go is an important part of ending a relationship and moving on. The way Toby goes about it though, is problematic in so many ways that I didn't really enjoy reading it. Olde Heuvelt's novels are generally more to my liking.

Story Details
Title: The Day the World Turned Upside Down
Author: Ian McDonald
Language: English, Dutch
Translation: Lia Belt
Originally published: English: Lightspeed Magazine, April 2014, Dutch: De Vis in de Fles, 2013
Read in: Lightspeed, Hebban
Story length: Novelette, English wordcount 10367, Dutch wordcount approximately 9900
Awards: Hugo Award winner
Available online: English: Lightspeed, Dutch: Hebban

Heksenhoeve - An Janssens

Over the past few years I have been trying to keep an eye on fantasy and science fiction (although the latter is virtually non-existent) originally published in Dutch. On one such foray I encountered An Janssens Drakenkoningin. It won a contest organized by one of the leading publishers of speculative fiction in the Netherlands. While not perfect, the novel showed promise and I ended up reading the two sequels as well. In her fourth novel, Janssens takes a different direction. Where her previous three novels were fairly traditional fantasies, Heksenhoeve is something in between horror and a thriller.The title literally means 'witches' farmstead', despite not actually featuring witches. Maybe bewitched farmstead' would be better. Although Janssens does not quite manage to keep the tension up in this novel, it is a very interesting change of pace in her career.

In the Belgian university town of Leuven, a brutally murdered student is found. The body is mutilated and several bits appear to be missing. Sander Dats, on the sufferance of his uncle working of the federal police, does not buy the easy explanation of a jealous ex-boyfriend being responsible. The trail leads to a nineteenth century farmstead in the woods outside of town. It has some very peculiar inhabitants but he can't quite seem to convince his uncle there is more going on than meets the eye. In the mean time Sander's ex-girlfriend has her own run-in with the farmhouse. Looking for a good location to practice her photography she enters the woods on her own. She soon discovers she should have stayed away.

One of the things that makes this novel interesting is the language Janssens uses. She is from Flanders, the Dutch speaking part of Belgium. For anybody who has Dutch as a first language, it is obvious which side of the border someone is from as soon as they open their mouth. In writing however, that difference largely disappears. Written Dutch is very standardised and most fantasy novels, whether translated or originally written in Dutch, go to great lengths to weed out all regional variations of spoken Dutch. You may get away with a few bits and pieces in the dialogue but even that is rare. While I dislike the sloppy use of language and the rampant use of English when a good Dutch alternative exists, I have always enjoyed this regional variation. Might have something to do with living in various places in the Netherlands.

In Heksenhoeve there is a fair bit of Flemish and, surprisingly, it is not contained to just the dialogue. Some thought must have gone into how much Flemish was acceptable as Janssens probably sells more books north of the border. Janssens even varies it with each character. For some it is just a choice of words, for others it is completely phonetically written dialect. Standardisation has its uses, but when I read a book like this I am reminded that the richness of language goes far beyond what is considered correct.

Janssens uses two point of view characters to tell her story. They are both flawed heroes in a way. Sander is suffering from a compulsive disorder that requires him to count everything and attach meanings to random numbers. Being around him would drive most people crazy in under an hour and as a result he is lonely. Being acutely aware of numbers also makes him see connections others would miss though, and he feels compelled to follow up on them. Janssens shows how his disorder both limits him and helps him find clues. A sympathetic view on mental problems is rare in genre fiction but here we have a fine example.

Anouk has her own problems to deal with. Like Sander, she is lonely. Her relationship with her mother is complicated and she is single again after breaking up with Sander. When her thirtieth birthday comes around and there isn't really anybody to celebrate with, self pity threatens to take over. Anouk may be lonely, she is also independent, resourceful and strong, and brutally honest with herself. Qualities she will need to survive her ordeal. Janssens manages to avoid making Anouk into a damsel in distress when the story could easily have accommodated that.

While I liked the characters and the writing, the novel does have problems keeping the tension up. The plot is fairly straightforward and not all that difficult to predict. It is obvious early on that the official explanation for the murder doesn't fit. It is obvious where to find the real perpetrator, it is obvious what the farmstead is hiding. In terms of suspense Anouk's story line is probably the most successful.  For most of the novel she is in much more immediate danger than Sander though. While he puts what could generously be called his career on the line, she is in mortal danger. Even in Anouk's story line you never really doubt the outcome though. Janssens is simply too generous in doling out clues to the reader to make it a real mystery.

Janssens tries something different in this novel and for the most part it succeeds. While the real tension in Heksenhoeve never really takes hold, there are quite a few things to enjoy. If you look at the character development and structure of Janssens' fantasy novels, Heksenhoeve is an improvement. I enjoyed her use of Flemish in the book, the characterisation and the setting of the novel. As a thriller it may not really thrill but if you look beyond that, there is a lot to like.

Book Details
Title: Heksenhoeve
Author: An Janssens
Publisher: Luitingh-Sijthoff
Pages: 283
Year: 2016
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-7082-9
First published: 2016

Slaap zacht, Jonny Idaho - Auke Hulst

Earlier this year the inaugural Harland Award for novels was awarded to the novel Slaap zacht, Jonny Idaho by Auke Hulst. The Harland Award for fantastic (read F, SF and H) short fiction has been around since 1976 and now they have expanded to longer works. It really is named award. I can't get over the irony of using the English word for an 'award' instead of the perfectly adequate Dutch word 'prijs'  when celebrating the best fantastic novel published in the Dutch language. But never mind that, let's move on to the book.

Liberally translated the title means something like 'Sweet Dreams, Johnny Idaho.' It's the first novel I've read by Hulst. From what I have seen of him, he is an author who doesn't seem to be bothered by labels like literary and genre. His inspiration is drawn from a number of classic works of literature - Melville's Moby Dick is often referenced - but also from science fiction greats such as Frank Herbert and Kurt Vonnegut. The novel uses elements of both, fusing it into a story that can be approached from either direction, although it is probably best to leave literary conventions behind completely.

After the financial meltdown of 2008 and the years of government involvement, regulation and other hardships, the financial world has decided to try a new approach. Somewhere in one of the world's oceans an archipelago arises. A place governed by corporate principles, where society is stratified by economic success. It is a place where people live to work and consume, and where Big Brother makes sure that is what you do. The story follows three people drawn to this capitalist paradise. Dutch investment banker Willem Gerson, promising, young, Japanese researcher Hatsu Hamada and traumatized, American teenager Johnny Idaho all have their own reasons for coming to the Archipelago. Although their economic status separates them, their lives are inexorably pulled together.

Slaap zacht, Johnny Idaho is a full blown dystopia. In the book we are shown the relentless pressure to perform, to rake in the big bucks, to consume and to do all of it within the contracts the archipelago offers. All of it is overseen by a nasty police force and ever present electronic surveillance. Society shows no coherency beyond economic status. It is a multinational group of people drawn together by greed and desperation and kept in check by the self-imposed laws of capitalism.The archipelago is tailor-made to suit the needs of corporate entities rather than people.  It is, in other words, a nightmare beyond what Orwell imagined in his 1984. A book that clearly inspired Hulst.

It is not surprising then, that the characters spend most of their time being completely miserable. They cover the full spectrum from pitiful to pathetic. In true dystopian style this novel is a very depressing read. I've always considered it a failing of Dutch literature in general that it cannot seem to discuss the human condition with even the slightest hint of optimism. The Dutch literary canon is a parade of losers, anti-heroes and tortured souls that, after being forced to read a bunch of them in school, made me wary to pick up more than one or two a year. I have to admit that in this case it is fitting. Mirroring their dismal environment, the characters explore greed, jealousy, revenge, guilt and, perhaps above all, mortality.

One other striking feature of the novel is the way it depicts loneliness. All three characters are intensely lonely. Social interactions are all business, there doesn't seem to be any room for something as intrinsically human as friendship or love. Everything is reduced to business or entertainment. Sometimes it is even hard to tell which is which. The characters are always connected to the rest of society, but more connections and more surveillance seems to result in more superficial contact. Human interaction is completely based on physical rather than emotional needs.

There's quite a bit of social commentary in the novel. Corporate greed is perhaps the most obvious one. On the Archipelago the mindset that caused the system to crash in 2008 is still thriving. The winners of this event are the ones that managed to push the losses and responsibility to someone else rather than the ones with a stronger sense of morality. Hulst has a few things to say about how modern means of communication, surveillance and data storage is changing the way people interact. A third one is the way the Archipelago deals with refugees. They allow a number of them in to keep wages low.

The language Hulst uses is something one does not come across often in Dutch genre novels. Most of them tend to be more focused on plot and storytelling. Prose is functional but rarely beautiful. Hulst approaches it differently. There is a lot of attention to descriptions, metaphor and internal monologue. Hulst emphasizes parallels between the situation of the Archipelago and the state of mind of his characters. One of the most obvious examples of this is the volcanic ash cloud that hangs over the islands. It nicely mirrors how Gerson's success in business turns to ashes in his mouth in the face of his imminent death for instance. Dialogue is used as an expression of loneliness and the superficial contacts the characters have with other people. Rarely do the characters have very deep conversations. If they do, suspicion and misdirection are often part of these conversations. Another interesting thing is how Johnny Idaho is telling his own story whereas Hulst uses a more standard third person narrative for the other two main characters.

In the end, Slaap zacht, Johnny Idaho is a very well written novel but also a very depressing read. Not just because of the miserable lives of the characters but also because the near future setting is so frighteningly plausible. While Hulst's corporate dystopia might not be the most original, the execution is very good indeed. Of course it is too 'literate' to market as science fiction and probably too genre to do well among the more science-fiction-can't-be-literature crowd. If you consider yourself not to be stuck on either side of the genre/ literature divide you could do worse than try this novel though. I was a bit doubtful when I picked it up, but it turned out to be well worth the read.

Book Details
Title: Slaap zacht, Johnny Idaho
Author: Auke Hulst
Publisher: Ambo|Anthos
Pages: 383
Year: 2015
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-414-2483-9
First published: 2015

De Klauw - Adrian Stone

Adrian Stone made his début in 2007, with the self-published novel Profeet van de Duivel. It was later reissued after an additional round of editing by one of the major publishers of fantasy in the Netherlands. Two more novels in the same series appeared to round off the trilogy. It was followed by a duology set in the same world. Now, Stone is ready for a new challenge De Klauw (literally: The Talon) is the first book in the Magyker trilogy. It is set in a new world, with a new system of magic and new characters. Readers who liked his previous novels will probably think he hit the bullseye with this novel. It offers the same fast paced, straightforward epic fantasy found in his previous novels. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, I found it to be a frustrating read.

Marit and her brother Auric are living in the city of Oftenooi. Their past is a mystery to them. After they left the Magyker city of Aimerey their memory was wiped. Now the Magykers are visiting their city to perform one of their spells. During the operation an unexpected talent surfaces in Auric. He can memorize and reproduce a spell after hearing it performed just once. To the Magykers, who have always guarded their monopoly on magic jealously, he is a threat to their wealth and power. He can't be allowed to live. Soon Marit and Auric are on the run. They find themselves in the (unwanted) company of the mysterious Eamon, who has his own reasons to dislike the Magykers. Reasons he is reluctant to share.

Stone certainly knows his audience. He aims for the kind of fantasy that has been doing very well here for the past decade. It is a tried and successful recipe. Magic, dragons, reluctant heroes and a world on the verge of a cataclysmic change. Stories told in accessible prose, that keep the reader's attention form the very first page. Stone's story has all that. I suspect the manuscript made an editor somewhere very happy.  He has grown as a writer as well, the pacing in particular is has improved compared to his first novel, and his worldbuilding is more confident as well.

Of course, the novel should be a bit different too from what has come before. The spiritual themes of the previous books have disappeared into the background. Where the intersection of religious fanaticism and power is studied in detail in those books, attention shifts to economics in De Klauw. The power their monopoly provides the Magykers with is felt throughout the world and is one of the driving forces of the conflict Stone describes in the novel. This theme is woven through the entire novel, if perhaps not as prominently as it might have been.

Stone picks an unusual saviour too. Auric is not only magically talented, he is also autistic. It makes him a handful for the people around him. He is highly unpredictable, lacks social grace and has the tendency to be brutally honest at exactly the wrong moment. I'm not familiar enough with the autism spectrum to say where in this range Auric could be placed but his behaviour is certainly recognizable. Stone uses it cleverly to keep the readers on their toes. Many tense situations arise from the question of how Auric will respond to a certain situation. Although he usually doesn't do it consciously, his actions determine the shape of events to a large extent.

So interesting world, good pacing, unusual choice for a messianic character, why did I call this book frustrating? Partly because of the things it doesn't do. Yes, Stone has a good grasp of what the reader expects of epic fantasy and he ticks all the boxes. Along the way he passes up on quite a few opportunities to give his creations a bit more depth however. As an example I'll turn back to the economics Stone describes. It is touched upon but only very lightly. A few lines here and there  to point at the problems the various nations face. Stone studied business economics and worked at ING, one of the largest Dutch banks, as an investment strategist for many years. To say he has an above average grasp of economics is probably an understatement. He could have done much more with it if he had wanted to.

Imagine one of the characters writing a fantasy equivalent of Das Kapital, as a response to magical monopoly deforming society. Or if you prefer more recent developments,  a parallel with the Greek debt crisis in one of the kingdoms in financial trouble, or perhaps the recent Argentinian crises as a parallel for a private organisation to hold a government at ransom using financial (magical) means. A nod to Thomas Piketty when discussing the appalling inequality the characters see around them would have been possible, or Milton Friedman when discussing the lack of economic freedom. Some of these things can be read into the text but it is buried so very deep that it is clear these things were not where Stone focused his attention.

Another thing I found frustrating about the novel is Stone's tendency to lay out the motivation of characters, leaving virtually no room for interpretation. Show, do not tell is a bit overrated as writing advice in my opinion. Books that only show end up being impenetrable for a lot of readers. But that doesn't mean you have to tell everything. A fine example of how this can derail the story is the character of Valdana. She is one of the more ambiguous characters in the novel. Her motivations are unclear for a while. She seems to be not fully committed to the cause she has joined. Stone then proceeds to bluntly confirm the reader's doubt and then dumps an explanation for her every action on the reader in the final pages of chapter 21. No big reveal, confrontation or angry scene. Just a bit of internal monologue and there you have it.

To an extent something like that happens to Marit as well. One of the things she struggles with in the novel is the lack of knowledge about her past. she yearns to know more but on the other hand fears what she might find. It's a dilemma she faces at the end of the book. Memories are intensely personal and messing with them has a profound impact on the character. Interestingly enough the climax of this part of the story is mostly described from the point of view of other characters. What could have been an emotionally powerful scene ends up a muted affair. We don't get a peek into Marit's thoughts until after the dust has settled.

All things considered this new series is of to a rocky start. On the one hand Stone delivers a story set in a fresh, imaginative and interesting world. He populates it with interesting characters, definitely not the standard dungeons and dragons party. It has all the elements of a successful epic fantasy novel. On the other, he leaves so many of the opportunities he creates for himself unused and leaves the reader very little room for interpretation. De Klauw is very readable, uncomplicated fantasy. A very good read if that is what you are looking for. Personally, I would have liked for it to be a little more, and I think that was entirely achievable in this set up. It was not quite what I had hoped for but, as always, your mileage may vary.

Book Details
Title: De Klauw
Author: Adrian Stone
Publisher: Luithing-Sijthoff
Pages: 350
Year: 2016
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-6836-9
First published: 2016

Reigers vlucht - Sophie Lucas

Despite all my resolve to pick up a Dutch language fantasy or science fiction novel every now and then, Reigers vlucht (literally: Heron's flight) is only the third this year. The other two were both written by An Janssens. Reigers vlucht was published in 2012 and I got it fairly soon after publication. It then lingered on the to read list for three years until I finally picked it up last week. It is a début novel and as far as I can tell, no other novels have been published since by Lucas. I do hope Lucas gets back into writing. Reigers vlucht is not a masterwork but it does show potential. It would be a waste to stop after just one novel.

A war with Yamatan has drained the Yuan empire to the point where the old emperor feels he has to reach a lasting peace agreement. A delegation of Yamatan nobles arrives at court to seal the peace with a wedding. The unfortunate bride is the emperor's daughter Mei Lin. She doesn't fancy the Yamatan prince she is supposed to wed and seeks her brother's aid. When one of her brother's servants, a boy named Cang Lu, informs her of a conspiracy that threatens to destabilize the empire, her life changes radically. Where once she was radically opposed to the marriage, now Yamatan might be her only chance at survival.

Reigers vlucht is a secondary world fantasy clearly inspired by various eastern cultures. The Yuan by imperial China, the Yamatan by Japan, probably before the Edo period. Throughout the novel there are references to other cultures in that part of the world but they are mostly background. I haven't been able to tie any of the events in the novel to a historical conflict. Technologically speaking, it would have to be sometime in the sixteenth century, since one of the plot developments revolves around the effect of the introduction of gunpowder on warfare. Interestingly enough it is the Yamatan military that employs these new weapons first in the novel. In Yuan the stuff appears to be unknown. A strange reversal of history.

It may not be a full-blown historical fantasy but Lucas borrows extensively from customs of both Japanese and Chinese culture. Clothing, court life, weapons, drinks, rituals and social structures are all in some  way or another taken from Chinese and Japanese culture. The endless drinking of tea (which the author refers to as Cha) and rice wine (mijiu or sake), the ritual suicide for disgraced warriors seppuku, fireworks, kimonos, the list is endless. Lucas obviously has a strong interest in eastern cultures but after finishing the book I did get the feeling the way she presented them Reigers vlucht was a bit selective. Where many of the elements are clearly recognizable even to the western reader, there were some strange omissions as well. The importance of poetry for instance, or the convoluted politics at the Chinese imperial court. From someone who has lived there her entire life, and someone who is obviously well educated, Mei Lin seems very naive about such things. Somehow the two cultures at the centre of the narrative never really coalesce into a coherent social structure.

The story is told in fairly short chapters that keep the story moving at a reasonably fast pace. Lucas presents the bulk of the story from the point of view of Mei Lin. She is a feisty seventeen-year-old who, especially early on in the novel seems to think the world revolves around her. It is a trait she doesn't entirely shed over the course of the novel. Being away from court does teach her a few things though. Sacrifice in particular is a theme in this novel. To compensate for Mei Lin's limited understanding of the world Lucas employs a number of secondary points of view. The most important of these is Cang Lu (a nickname meaning heron). It must have been a surprise for many readers that the character who gave the novel its name gets so little screen time.

With most of the plot revolving around court intrigue and warfare, the novel is quite light on magic. Cang Lu is at the centre of what little magic the book contains however. I'm not quite sure what to call it but in effect he sees the future. Or possible futures at least. It is a talent he doesn't master in the early stages of the story. As the novel progresses, he gains more control and starts basing his decisions on what he sees. His actions turn out to be critical to the eventual climax of the novel, something the observant reader will see coming for a while. Cang Lu is, in most ways, a more interesting character than Mei Lin. He is damaged, fragile in a way and hopelessly in love. He has a much more interesting backstory than the pampered Mei Lin. With so little attention being paid to a character that turns out to be very important to the  plot I can't help but feel the novel is a bit unbalanced.

All things considered Reigers vlucht is a flawed début. It's a pleasant read in some respects. The pacing is good, the story flows well and Lucas times her big reveals and climax of the story well enough to make it a satisfying read in that respect. The characters and her use of the different points of view are not as well balanced though and I also felt that the cultures she depicts  are a bit too much a collection of interesting customs and folklore rather than a reflection of a culture as a whole. It is not a début that sends shock waves through the genre or even the Dutch language corner of it, but it is a solid novel. One that I enjoyed reading. Lucas missed a few opportunities to make it a more memorable read, but with a little more experience she could well produce a truly memorable book in the future. It is not a perfect novel but certainly a promising one.

Book Details
Title: Reigers Vlucht
Author: Sophie Lucas
Publisher: De Boekerij
Pages: 480
Year: 2012
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-225-6022-8
First published: 2012

Drakenvuur - An Janssens

I only read a couple of Dutch language novels every year. While I do like to stay in touch with what goes on in the small but vibrant fantasy community in the Dutch-speaking part of the world, these novels are almost always a few steps behind in craft and professionalism compared to the bulk of my reading. My reviews of Dutch language works tend to focus more on the technical side of writing, (structure, pacing, plotting) than on language, themes or interpretation of the novel. While there are some very talented people out there, a lot of what is being published is substandard. There are reasons for that. Nobody can make a living writing fantasy in the Netherlands. There are no magazines and very few other places to publish short works, the number of professional editors in he field is limited and the few publishers with resources tend to be more interested in translated works. Being a fantasy writer in the Netherlands with aspirations of writing a novel that can compete in international company is hard indeed.

An Janssens is one of the few authors being backed by a large publisher, a privilege she won in a writing contest a couple of years ago. Drakenvuur (literally: Dragon's Fire) is the concluding volume of the trilogy that started with Drakenkoningin in 2013. I picked up the first two volumes at the local bookstore but the third book I received directly from the author. This may seem surprising. The reviews of Drakenkoningin and Drakentovenaar were not exactly  jubilant. There is a story behind this of course and maybe I'll tell you about it some other time. Right now we are going to focus on the book.

For seven centuries a magical barrier has divided the north and the south. Slowly the north has cooled and the south warmed to the point where both of them are becoming uninhabitable. The leaders on both sides of the barrier understand something needs to be done to prevent the extinction of their peoples but neither has the skill and power to undo the magical damage wrought on the world by the powerful wizards of the past. Tentative contact has been made and now the time for bolder action has arrived. Var, Wizard-King of the south sets out to meet the Dragon Queen of the north. Together with their companions they set out to save the world, or break it forever.

With the first and second volume in the trilogy set primarily in the north and south respectively, this book is the first opportunity to see the two sides interact fully. Groups of characters from both novels make an appearance in the book and most of them get a point of view. I counted five major point of view characters and two minor ones. To accommodate the crowd, Janssens writes even shorter chapters in this novel. Drakenkoningin has 19 chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. Drakentovenaar, which is approximately the same length, has 32 chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. Drakenvuur has 47 chapters, a prologue and an epilogue. It must be noted that the page count of the final book is a bit higher than the other two though. It's no surprise then, that the novel moves at the same breakneck speed as the previous two books. In fact, the rapid changes in point of view, especially towards the end of the novel, give it the appearance of even more speed.

Janssens has grown more adept at saying more with fewer words but some readers will feel that being forced to look at the story from a different angle every few pages is a bit too much of a good thing. It also doesn't do the characters any favours in terms of development. Nevsemir for instance, is struggling with what can best be described as post-traumatic stress syndrome. Something she conveniently shrugs off when it really matters. Var, who like in the previous novel, is manipulated at every turn, easily forgives Thala for yet another piece of misdirection. Thala herself struggles with the secret she is keeping from Var but the whole thing is quickly brushed aside when it comes out. None of them seem to have a moment to spare to consider the rather large number of casualties among the population of both the north and the south their campaign to save the world demands. Like in the previous two volumes, many things that could have made the story more challenging, and in my opinion a more satisfactory read, are sacrificed to the demands of a fast paced plot.

Drakenvuur is a book built on shaky foundations. It has inherited the problems of the first two volumes and these issues show in the final instalment as well. That being said, there are elements in the novel that show Janssens growth as a writer. When she  wrote the first novel, it was by no means certain there would be a second volume. There clearly was a bit of improving involved in the creation of this trilogy. Where the first and second book are more or less separate stories, only slightly related to each other, in this novel she must find a way to unify the two halves of her tale. A lack of foreshadowing in the previous volumes sometimes crops up in some elements of the tale. The magic employed by the characters is one area where she succeeds into creating a coherent fusion of the previous two volumes. The abilities and limitations of each of the forms of magic are well thought out. Probably the best element of worldbuilding in this novel.

Janssens' trilogy is a good example of why I don't read many works in Dutch. On the one hand it is brimming with potential, enthusiasm and love for the genre. On the other you can feel the heavy hand of the editor speeding things up and removing the peculiarities of the author's style from the text. What remains is a trilogy that is marketable but not surprising. A fantasy that is both limited by the author's inexperience and the publisher's ambition. Had it been among the English language books on the bookshelves I would have passed it without looking twice. Looking on the bright side, Janssens was presented with an opportunity and she took it. A rare chance to be published as professionally as is possible in this part of the world. While there is still plenty of room for improvement, her writing has gotten better over the course of the trilogy. I hope she can take that experience with her and go on to create something that is a bit more challenging and a bit less traditional. I think she has the talent to do it. It will be interesting to see where she will go from here. Despite not being blown away by Janssens' Song of Ice and Fire, I will be keeping an eye out for the next one with her name on it.

Book Details
Title: Drakenvuur
Author: An Janssens
Publisher: Luitingh Fantasy
Pages: 316
Year: 2015
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-6776-8
First published: 2015

Drakentovenaar - An Janssens

In 2013 An Janssens' debut appeared. The novel Drakenkoningin (literally translated: Dragon Queen) was the winner of a contest aimed at finding new Dutch language Fantasy talent, organized by one of the largest publishers of Fantasy and Science Fiction in the Netherlands. Drakenkoningin is a novel that doesn't stray much from the proven recipe for Fantasy novels that sell well in the Netherlands. As such it was a bit of a disappointment to me. Especially since the novel itself showed more than a few flaws in the writing and characterization. It must have sold well enough though, Luitingh Fantasy bought two more of her books, making Drakenkoningin into the first novel in a trilogy. October 2014 saw the release of Drakentovenaar (literally: Dragon Wizard) the second volume and I understand that the third one is in the editorial stages already. Despite not being terribly impressed by the first volume curiosity got the better of me when I came across Drakentovenaar during a recent visit to the book store. Time to see if Janssens has improved.

Seven hundred years ago a magical disaster of epic proportions tore the world in half. The north (see the first  volume in the trilogy) is growing ever colder, while the south is suffering increasingly hot temperatures. So much so in fact, that humanity has retreated to a vast system of caves to escape the heat that blisters the surface. The remaining wizards have managed to stay in power but their numbers are so few that they have been forced to intermarry with humans. As a result, each generation their power lessens. Now they have gotten to the point where their strictly patriarchal society has to accept a female heir to the throne, and one with limited magical powers at that. Not everybody is pleased with this prospect. Mutiny is brewing.

I characterized the first novel as hasty. It had a relentless pace and lots of action scenes pretty much from start to finish. It didn't do the novel any favours in terms of worldbuilding and characterization. In Drakentovenaar Janssens slows down just a little bit. Especially in the early stages of the book we get a bit more time to become familiar with this new set of characters and their environment. Towards the end Janssens speeds up again, giving the book a proper climax. The chapters have become a bit shorter too, which fits the pace of the story and the multiple points of view Janssens employs. Technically the novel works a lot better than the first volume.

The story runs parallel to that in Drakenkoningin. Like in the first novel, there is a sense that the world is facing its doom if the situation is not remedied. Where the north is said to be cooling even further, the south is heating up. Life underground is just about bearable but especially the less privileged parts of the population are beginning to feel the squeeze. Throughout the novel links between the north and the south are inserted, and one character from the first novel makes a minor appearance. Janssens is clearly setting things up for a third novel in which we can safely assume righting this ancient wrong will be the goal. It's another bit of skill the previous novel lacked. Of course when she wrote that, it was by no means certain there would be a second or third novel, but the forshadowing still adds a bit extra depth to the novel.

Improvement in some aspects of the writing still doesn't mean I absolutely adore Drakentovenaar though. Problems remain with both thematically and with the characters. The novel's main theme is clearly sexism, it crops up in the storylines of most major characters. The society Janssens has created is strictly patriarchal and has become even more restrictive towards women in the last generation or so. One of the main characters, the thoroughly unpleasant princess Nevsemir, is the embodiment of the treatment women suffer. She is heir-apparent because of a lack of male heirs and her father tries to seize every opportunity to find a male heir. Her mother, known as the Nameless Queen, doesn't seem to care for her at all. Nevsemir is determined to take the throne, feeling she has as much right to it as any man, but is something of a contradiction as she does insist on clothes that cover her completely and is outraged by public displays of affection, immodest clothing or pretty much anything else a woman might do in public that gets her attention. Does she intend to rule the nation demurely hiding behind a veil? There is a contradiction in this character that Janssens doesn't really manage to resolve in the novel.

Sexism is also very much part of the life of Zia, another main character in the story. She grows up with her brother Var who, besides being male is fortunate enough to have a few wizard genes expressing themselves. He therefore receives much more of his father's attention than Zia. This might have been reason for a bit of jealous backstabbing in the family but mysteriously, Zia loves Var as no sister should. Even in a world with a severely reduced population this is incest and Zia knows it. Janssens could have done a number of things with this situation that would have made the character of Zia a lot more plausible. It will not surprise the reader that Zia and Var are not really brother and sister but Zia doesn't even begin to suspect this. If she had, the dynamic in the family could have been a whole lot more interesting. Another thing that struck me as strange is that Janssens doesn't use the fact that incest among wizards is not entirely unheard of in this part of the story. In an effort to keep their powers concentrated instead of diluting them further with each generation, marrying family members in the royal family has been proposed. Maybe Zia isn't aware of this but she doesn't reach for this breach of the taboo for justification. It reduces her to a frustrated teenager whose main purpose in the story is to make life hard for the two characters that really call the shots, and that wasn't necessary. Especially not in a novel with sexism as an important theme.

The third main character  in the novel, Zia's brother Var,  is perhaps the most problematic of all. He is manipulated to such and extend, both by emotional means and magic, that the man can't possibly know anymore who he is and what he is supposed to want out of life. In the end he picks the one goal the story demands of him but why he does so remains completely unclear. His story is so erratic that without magical means to move this character would make no sense whatsoever. As it is, Var is a classical example of a writer pulling the strings on a character too obviously. Var will most likely play a major part in the third novel. Let's hope Janssens gives him some more space to develop on his own terms there.

In the end, Drakentovenaar is a step forward but clearly not all I'm looking for in a Fantasy novel. The whole plot feels a bit contrived with the characters mostly present to serve the plot. Still, if Janssens manages to keep taking steps forward in her writing, the final volume of the trilogy could well be a good read. Janssens' creation doesn't lack possibilities. Despite not being thrilled by this second volume I can't deny being curious about the resolution of the story. I guess I will keep an eye out for the third part of the trilogy.

Book Details
Title: Drakentovenaar
Author: An Janssens
Publisher: Luitingh Fantasy
Pages: 287
Year: 2014
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-6474-3
First published: 2014

Hex - Thomas Olde Heuvelt

Thomas Olde Heuvelt has been making quite a name for himself in the Dutch speculative fiction market. Hex is the third novel I've read by him and in terms of craftsmanship, he is well ahead of most other authors in the field. He's been trying to get into the inroads in the English language market too. Several of his shorter pieces have been translated and last year, The Boy Who Cast No Shadow even made it to the Hugo shortlist. This year he's on there again with The Ink Readers of Doi Saket. He's made attempts to get his previous novel, Harten Sara (2011) translated but so far they have not resulted in a book on the shelves. The prospects for Hex are looking even better, the translation right and television rights have been sold. Provided it survives development hell, Hex might even make it to the small screen.

The village of Beek, near Nijmegen close to the Dutch-German border, hides a terrible secret. To outsiders it looks like an idyllic place but once you are unfortunate enough to move there, you're stuck. A woman burnt there as a witch in the seventeenth century is holding the village hostage. Her eyes and mouth are sown shut and the villagers are under strict orders not to attempt to communicate with the witch. Doing so almost always results in death. A strict regime to keep the village safe and the witch a secret to the outside world has been put in place. It has worked reasonably well but such restriction chafe, especially for the younger generation for whom the world, thanks to modern communication devices, does not stop at the edge of the village. Their attempt to gain a little more freedom sets in motion a series of events that will change the village forever.

Beek does indeed exist. I've lived in that part of the country for almost three years but I've never visited it. Olde Heuvelt has used quite a few locations that actually exist but the characters and events are of course fictious. He gives the place quite a rough treatment in his book. Lots of small minded people, plenty of paranoia, racist tendencies and mob mentality. That's on top of the havoc wreaked by the witch of course. It makes me wonder what someone born and raised in Beek would make of it.

The witch herself, a woman named Katharina van Wyler, is not the most original element in the story. Her history is not very well known but she was accused of bringing her son who died of the plague back to life. The superstitious locals then tortured her to death. She now haunts them as a vengeful reminder of the crimes the villagers committed in the past. On several occasions she has gotten into the head of villagers and made them commit suicide. The last time this happened was in the 1960s, well before the the younger generation in the village was born. Never having experienced the horror she can unleash firsthand, they are not so certain that all the restrictions imposed on their lives are necessary.

Olde Heuvelt doesn't really explore the motivations of Katharina in the novel. Instead he creates something of a generational conflict. Having to spend your entire life in the village of Beek, which has no economy to speak of, is inconceivable. The constant need of having to keep secrets from their fellow students and friends from outside Beek weighs on them. It is only natural that they start pushing against the restrictions to find out what they can get away with. In fact, in today's world, being cut off from the the rest of the country simply isn't an option. It's an expression of the small-mindedness of the village council that they do not see the need to adapt. Rebellious youngsters and conservative village Elders are an explosive mix and Olde Heuvelt strikes the spark in a very convincing way.

One of the most interesting things in this novel is the use of language. Modern Dutch is very much influenced by English. To the extent even, that for many recent inventions, no Dutch word exists. Computer, laptop and smartphone are part of the everyday vocabulary of the Dutch. On top of that a whole set of Anglicisms has entered the language, literal translations of English expressions. It makes me cringe every time I hear someone say 'soort van', 'daar heb je een punt', 'seks hebben' (or if you really want to make a purist cringe 'sex hebben') or 'fokking'. Obviously I don't have a problem with the English language, but I don't think the fact that it is the lingua franca of our time is an excuse for not to speak your own language properly. The most recent development the use of English words to replace words that do have a translation in Dutch. Recently I heard someone use the word flabbergasted (verbijsterd) in what was otherwise a Dutch sentence. If you pay attention to it, you'll hear plenty of examples.

Whether I like it or not, it's the way a lot of people talk these days and Olde Heuvelt makes his characters do it. Especially the younger ones use a lot of Anglicisms and English words. In fact, the title of the novel is probably the most clear expression of this fusion of languages. The Dutch word for witch is 'heks', while hex (pronunciation is almost identical) has a meaning in English as well. Olde Heuvelt himself has a fine command of the Dutch language. His prose is often quite creative and likely to give a translator a few headaches. It results in a pretty sharp contrast between dialogue and exposition in the book. It makes me wonder how much of this will survive translation.

In terms of style the novel is quite different from his previous novel as well. Harten Sara is almost entirely told from a first person perspective. In Hex, the entire community is the main character and to accurately describe what is going on, Olde Heuvelt switches a lot between characters. Especially towards the end of the novel, when things really start to heat up, you have to have a firm grasp of who is who in the village to follow the story. Given the number of characters employed, it could easily have been a much longer novel. Olde Heuvelt's writing is pretty concise considering the story he is trying to tell. It does go at the expense of the depth of some of the characters. There is one suicide towards the end of the novel for instance, that shocks the village but doesn't do much for the reader because we haven't seen much of this character except his self-righteous behaviour at a council meeting. Overall, I think this is the kind of tale that is more suited to speed and a more general overview of what is happening though. Olde Heuvelt is trying to show the impact on the larger community after all.

Where Harten Sara was much more of a character study and tended towards magical realism, in Hex Olde Heuvelt returns to the dark fantasy he showed in Leerling Tovenaar Vader & Zoon (2008).  It's fast paced, horrific and absolutely thrilling. I had to force myself to put it down a couple of times to go do other things. If you have the time for a reading binge, this is the kind of book you could read in one go. Personally I enjoyed the more challenging Harten Sara a bit more, but it is a fine novel. It will be interesting to see if it manages to conquer the English language market as well.

Book Details
Title: Hex
Author: Thomas Olde Heuvelt
Publisher: Luitingh-Sijthoff
Pages: 351
Year: 2013
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-6025-7
First published: 2013

Bound in Darkness - Kim ten Tusscher

Last month I reviewed Kim ten Tusscher's debut novel Hydrhaga, which has recently appeared in English translation. The package the author sent me also contained a copy of her second novel Bound in Darkness. It is the first novel of the Lilith trilogy and a much more ambitious work than Hydrhaga. The Dutch edition first appeared in 2010. As of this year, it is available in English too. I'm not entirely sure if and when the other two volumes will follow. In my review of Hydrhaga I pointed out quite a few things I had problems with. Bound in Darkness shares some flaws with Hydrhaga but overall it is a step up in craftsmanship. Ten Tusscher has developed a much better grip on the plot and the pacing of the story.

The translation of this novel was done by Rianne Stolwijk. I read the Dutch sample provided on the author's website to get a feel for the translation. It looks like a more direct translation to me. The tekst of Hydrhaga deviated a bit more from the literal Ducth original. It's hard to compare the two as Bound in Darkness is better written, but from reading the original Dutch I got the impression Stolwijk is more used to translating technical texts rather than fiction. There is a fine line between literal meaning of the word and the author's intent. I think taking a bit more liberties with the text would have improved it. It's a matter of taste though. Stolwijk clearly has a good grasp of the English language and translating fiction always involves elements that can't be captured in the grammar and vocabulary of a language.

Lilith is on the run. She is desperately trying to escape her master Kasimirh, a magician forcing her into a life of servitude and violence to realize his religious ideals. While trying to steal food, Lilith is caught and in the fight that follows she nearly kills a man. The brother of this man brings her before the king of the nation of Merzia to face his judgment. To pay for her crime she receives a flogging and has to work off her debt to the king after he compensates the brothers for their loss and trouble. Placed in the care of the magician Ferhdessar and the head of the palace household Ghalatea, Lilith is safe from her former master for the moment but once again a prisoner. Kasimirh is not going to let his subject escape though. War is about to engulf Merzia. Another confrontation with her former master seems inevitable.

Once again Ten Tusscher picks a young woman as main character. Where Lumea appears to have had a reasonably happy childhood, Lilith's has been one of abuse. It makes the book a lot darker than Hydrhaga. The title of the novel is clearly fitting in that respect. Despair, guilt and paranoia are always close to the surface. Lilith's behavior follows a pattern seen in many victims of domestic abuse. On the one hand she fears Kasimirh and wants to be free of him, on the other he gives her the attention nobody else seems to be willing to give her. It results in a strange kind of dependance on him, one she spends the entire novel trying to shake.

There is a decidedly violent side to Lilith's personality too. She is a shapeshifter and can change into a powerful dragon. As such, she was very valuable to Kasimirh, whose dreams of world domination in part rely on her strength. She has been forced to wreak havoc on many a village in the past, killing countless innocent people in the process. The guilt of this weights heavily on her. It's one of the aspects of the story I had a problem with. Throughout the novel Lilith is being manipulated, tricked and forced to do certain things which results in the death of many people. At one level it is obvious that she would feel responsible for that but on the other hand the author is careful always to make sure the real blame lies with someone else. Lilith has quite a volatile character, it wouldn't seem that unlikely that she would make a genuine mistake at one point. The tragedy of many people who are forced to fight in a war is that they are both victim and perpetrator. I think Ten Tusscher didn't quite get the most out of her character here. The real tragedy is somehow always one step removed from her.

That being said, she is a much better developed character than Lumea. Ten Tusscher clearly put more thought into this character. More planning is something that is obvious in all aspects of the novel. I'm not sure there are people who can write a trilogy organically but Ten Tusscher clearly didn't intend to. She has a plan, the story has a clear direction and she completes the novel in what is both a natural break in the story and a hook for the next novel.

The worldbuilding takes a bit of a backseat in the novel. Ten Tusscher describes the religious roots of the conflict briefly and shows us how the political structure of Merzia works, but everything else remains in the background. There is an intense focus on the characters and the relationship between Lilith and the two manipulative magicians in her life that doesn't allow Ten Tusscher to get too descriptive. At times it makes the conflict seem a bit simplistic but especially in the scenes seen from the point of view of Ferhdessar hint at much more depth. Ten Tusscher leaves herself a lot of avenues to explore in the next two volumes.

After reading Hydrhaga I had adjusted my expectations for this novel a bit. Bound in Darkness is such a step up in quality however, that the novel turned out to be a pleasant surprise. So much so in fact, that I wonder if Ten Tusscher didn't do herself a disservice by having Hydrhaga translated. She might have been better off by starting with Bound in Darkness. Ten Tusscher seems to have found her stride in this novel. It is a solid start to the trilogy. Pick this one up and you'll be hooked for the entire series.

Book Details
Title: Bound in Darkness
Author: Kim ten Tusscher
Publisher: Alter Ego Press
Pages: 279
Year: 2014
Language: English
Format: Paperbacl
ISBN: 978-94-907-6747-1
First published: 2010

Hydrhaga - Kim ten Tusscher

Like in the English language world, Fantasy is a bit of a niche market in the Netherlands. The Dutch language market, with some 23 million first language speakers, is nowhere near large enough to support full time Fantasy writers. As a result, very few works of Fantasy originally written in Dutch are published in what would be considered a professional fashion in the English language world. The obvious answer for authors with ambitions of making a living as a writer is to get their works translated, with the English language as the big prize. Unfortunately that market isn't very open to translations. With so many native speakers clamouring for attention, shouldering the additional cost of a translation simply isn't worth the effort for a book that is not certain to sell. So what do you do to get a foot in the door? Have the translation done yourself. Thomas Olde Heuvelt has recently tried this approach and it has gotten him two spots on the Hugo Award shortlist. For some, it may be worth trying.

Getting a Fantasy novel in Dutch published is not impossible however. In the area between self publishing and traditional publishing quite a lot is happening in the Netherlands. One of the publishers operating in this area is Uitgeverij Zilverspoor. They have an editorial process, art direction and a nice website but with print runs more likely to be in the hundreds than thousands and a persistent lack of their books showing up in the brick and mortar book stores, it is unlikely any of the people involved are actually making a living this way. That doesn't seem to dampen their ambition though. Recently they launched a new imprint, Alter Ego Press, which publishes English language books. So far the number of titles is limited but I think it is an initiative worth watching.

One of the authors who had her books translated is Kim ten Tusscher. Her Dutch bibliography currently contains five novels, two of which have been translated into English. The author kindly provided me with review copies of the English language editions. The first one is Hydrhaga, a standalone Fantasy first published in Dutch in 2008. The translation was done by Judit Coppens, a name I haven't come across before. To get a feel for the translation I also read the fourteen page sample of the Dutch edition of Hydrhaga provided on the author's website. It looks like this new English edition also included a bit of rewriting. It is not a one on one translation of the text on Ten Tusscher's website. From what I can tell the translation has been done by someone with a knowledge of the English language that far exceeds mine. The prose is not stunning but it does do justice to Ten Tusscher's writing.

The story's main character is a young woman by the name of Lumea (moon symbolism is a motif in this novel) on a journey towards the mysterious city of Hydrhaga. Drawn by the promise of a carefree life, freed of the traditional role her society is trying to force her into, Lumea arrives in the city of Omnesia (which indeed seems to have forgotten part of its history). Nobody is willing to help her get to her final destination however, until she meets the mysterious Elion. Together they manage to find her destination, but things turn out to be quite different from what Lumea imagined. The city hides a secret that will quickly turn Lumea's hopes and dreams sour.

In this novel, Ten Tusscher is looking for the strong female lead that seems to defy so many authors in epic fantasy. In a way she finds her too. Lumea grows throughout the novel. She is barely mature and somewhat naive early on in the novel, but gains confidence and maturity as the story progresses. She is, all things considered, an interesting character. What I did have issues with, is the fact that her motivations mostly revealed to the reader long after her actions. The reason why Lumea left home for instance, doesn't come up until the halfway point of the novel and even then it is only partly explained. How she managed to convince her parents to let their barely adult daughter go on a journey to a far away city that doesn't appear on any map on her own, is almost entirely glossed over.

What bothered me most about Lumea is the apparent contradiction between her adherence to the traditional religious beliefs of her people, her sadness at the disappearance of traditional cultural values,  and resistance to being placed in the traditional role of women in her culture. What her culture deems to be her place in society may not stem from its religion but usually these things are interlinked. On the one hand she is one of the few of her generation who sticks to the bond with the land and the connection to nature, on the other, she is something of a revolutionary. Not that these two things are mutually exclusive but Ten Tusscher doesn't manage to unify them in Lumea. Too often she swings from conservative to liberal views or from a pacifist attitude to determined to swing a sword. At times it made me feel that Lumea's character development was driven by the needs of the plot, rather than an attempt by the author to create a complex character.

The worldbuilding is in Hydrhaga is curious as well. It presents the reader with a strange mix of technological development. On the one hand there are airships and submarines, but riding on horseback is still the way to get around on land. Force fields and robotics have been developed but gunpowder or any other form of explosives are absent and fighting is done with swords. It is as if the novel can't quite decide whether it wants to be pseudo-medieval fantasy, steampunk or something else entirely. A clear sense of what is technically possible or an explanation for some strange omissions is lacking. In terms of worldbuilding, the novel is messy.

After finishing the novel I didn't feel like I had read a book that is going to storm the bestsellers lists. Hydrhaga feels like a very organically written piece. The need to find out what comes next and to get to the end of the story overshadow the structure of the tale and the consistency of the world and its characters. Especially later on in the book there is a sense of urgency in the writing that will make the reader want to keep going until the final page is turned. Readers looking for this kind of tale could do worse than pick up this novel. For the more reflective reader, Hydrhaga is less successful. The more reflective reader will see the cracks in this novel however. There is no doubt about the enthusiasm Ten Tusscher shows for writing and the Fantasy genre in particular, but there is some room for improvement in terms of structure, plotting and characterization. I'll be looking at her second novel, Bound in Darkness, in a few weeks time. It'll be interesting to see how she develops.

Book Details
Title: Hydrhaga
Author: Kim ten Tusscher
Publisher: Alter Ego Press
Pages: 206
Year: 2013
Language: English
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-94-907-6737-2
First published: 2008

Drakenkoningin - An Janssens

When you look around on in a the genre fiction section of your average Dutch bookshop, you'll notice that not much in the way of fantasy and science fiction on the shelves is local produce. Science fiction is nearly impossible to find in Dutch and fantasy is almost always translated, with the English language world being the biggest supplier. One of the reasons I started reading in English is that the selection offered is very limited in some ways. I do try to keep an eye out for fantasy originally written in Dutch however. It doesn't happen often that I find something worth reading but once in a while I come across a title that makes me curious. Drakenkoningin (literally translated: Dragon Queen), is one such book.

There are two publishers in the Netherlands that publish the bulk of fantasy available in Dutch and one of them, Luitingh Fantasy, must have noticed the shortage of homegrown talent. In 2012 the set up a contest, challenging writers to submit their manuscripts. The winner would, if the manuscript was of sufficient quality, be published. From the conditions of the contest it is clear that Luitingh wasn't going to take too much chances besides publishing a new name. The novel they were looking for should be firmly rooted in fantasy and should appeal to a wide audience. If you read between the lines of the conditions, they were essentially looking for a novel much like the translated works they are publishing and in a way, that is exactly what they got.

Drakenkoningin by Flemish author An Janssens is the winning book of the contest. It was published in October 2013 by Luitingh Fantasy after a round of edits of the original manuscript. It's a fairly short novel that nevertheless seems to check all the boxes of bestselling Fantasy in the Netherlands. It's a not too challenging read, is set in a secondary world in which a magical disaster too place in a distant past and it has dragons. In short, it is the kind of Tolkienesque fantasy that has been doing well here in recent years.

Seven hundred years ago, a magical experiment has gone awry. The wizards responsible for the disaster retreated behind a magical barrier, leaving humanity behind to fend for itself in a cooling world. Their influence isn't entirely gone however. The wizard Venor set up a contest to be held once every century. The winner and his or her descendants would rule of humanity until the next contest was held.The contest is rigged however. For seven centuries, one queen has ruled practically unopposed and with an iron fist. Soon a new contest will be held, and this time the queen has serious competition.

If I'd had to capture this novel in one word I'd probably say it is hasty. The concept behind the story offers lots of possibilities but almost all of them are sacrificed to keeping the plot going at the fastest pace possible. The novel's prologue illustrates this perfectly. We catch a glimpse of a world in turmoil, the last moments of a civilization. It's a chaotic scene and tosses the reader a few riddles to explore further on in the novels. Or at least, that is what one would expect of a prologue. An awful lot of the things mentioned in the prologue are not followed up on. There is the suggestion that wizards are actually a different species instead of humans with magical powers, there is the riddle of what they were doing that so hopelessly screwed up the world and why they thought it was a good idea to try, there is motivation of Venor to create the barrier that remains completely unclear. The contest itself is one of the few things that Janssens does follow up on. The prologue a nice action-packed sequence but if not for the contest and appearance of one of the main characters in the novel, there would have been a total disconnect with the rest of the story.

Fast-forward seven hundred years and we end up in the main body of the story. To further introduce the reader to her creation Janssens uses a main character Thala, who wakes up a captive in the single city humanity is confined to. Most of her memories are gone and she is severely weakened. This memory loss offers Janssesn another opportunity to slip in some tidbits about the world the reader needs to know. She uses it very sparingly however, Thala is soon caught up in a whirlwind of events that sees her take part in the next contest. For most of the story, Thala's actions are driven by an acute need to survive. She is weakened from injuries, dependent on others to keep her safe and on the move and rarely able to make her own decisions. We see what she does, share her most basic responses and feelings but never truly get into her head and that is a huge missed opportunity when you consider the magic that surrounds her.

The wizards may have withdrawn, that doesn't mean magic is gone from the world. The Queen for instance, employs a kind of magic that lets her influence the thoughts of others. Sometimes it is quite crude but she is also capable of very subtle manipulations. Her victims are not always aware that she is manipulating them. The talent is not widespread but a number of other characters are also able to do it. This makes the queen very suspicious, in fact, she is bordering on paranoid for most of the novel. Oddly enough, the knowledge that whatever you are thinking at a specific time might not be your own though, doesn't seem to affect the other characters as much. Thala realizes quickly that the queen and a number of other characters can get into her head. There is a great possibility for a psychological game here but it never really materializes. The more mundane, physical challenge of the contest takes precedence.

Thala has essentially lost her entire identity when she wakes up. She needs to find herself, her past and her place in the world and is surrounded by people she can't trust, tried to hurt or imprison her or plant thoughts into her head designed to keep her form winning the throne. Doubt, paranoia and confusion could have been used to much greater effect. If this novel had explored the psychological aspect of the situation a bit further I think it would have been a much more interesting read.

Thala's nemesis the Queen falls victim to minimal characterization as well. She is essentially cut off from the truly advanced magic of the wizards, ostracised from a society that may have looked down on her but offered possibilities to expand her knowledge and power. What we find seven centuries on is a woman obsessed by staying in power but apparently blind to the fact that the pitiful remnant of human society she is ruling over is effectively dying. Nowhere in the novel is there any trace that she means to reach beyond what she already rules to try and stop this decline. Or perhaps beat the contest once and for all and take revenge, that would have been another good motivation for this character. As it is her ambition is to stay in power, period. Had she had more ambition, the reader would have had to ask the question whether the Queen's goals justify her means, injecting a bit more grey into a character that, right now, is just plain evil.

Drakenkoningin is a novel for really plot oriented readers. Janssens made is a very fast paced tale, where the reader (or the characters for that matter) barely get time to catch their breath. To achieve all this speed and action, worldbuilding and characterization are, sometimes quite brutally, sacrificed. That is a choice some readers may appreciated. Personally, I look for a little more in a fantasy novel. Janssens has the basics for an interesting story here but I feel she is not making the most of it. There is too much shaky worldbuilding and too little attention to the motivations of her characters for me to really appreciated it. In the end I felt that this book needed a bit more Philip K. Dick and a little less Raymond E. Feist to make it rise above the fantasy that crowds the shelves in Dutch book stores. That being said, I understand that it is to be the first book of a trilogy. Some of what I am missing in this story may be addressed in later volumes.

Book Details
Title: Drakenkoningin
Author: An Janssens
Publisher: Luitingh Fantasy
Pages: 271
Year: 2013
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-6254-1
First published: 2013

The Boy Who Cast No Shadow - Thomas Olde Heuvelt

Something remarkable happened a couple of weeks ago when the Hugo nominations were announced; a Dutchman was nominated in the Novelette category. Although, especially in the short fiction categories, a slow movement towards a more diverse and international genre can be detected in recent years, I can't remember a translated work having made the ballot before. Thomas Olde Heuvelt is well known among genre fiction readers in the Netherlands, I've read two of his novels, the most recent one of which, Harten Sara has been reviewed on Random Comments. This novel is also expected to appear in English translation but other than that is is being translated, I haven't been able to find any details on that project.

The Boy Who Cast No Shadow was first published in 2010 and has appeared in Dutch in various places under the title De jongen die geen schaduw wierp. Olde Heuvelt has stated it was written as an ode to Pop Art by Joe Hill, a story he considers the finest short story of the twenty-first century. I'm afraid I haven't read it but the link might be interesting for fans of Hill's work. I first encountered The Boy Who Cast No Shadow in Pure Fantasy magazine number 19, published sometime in 2010. After winning the Paul Harland Prijs, one of the more prestigious Dutch awards for genre fiction, Olde Heuvelt invested his prize money in a professional translation and managed to get PS Publishing interested. The English translation is part of a collection called Unfit for Eden, edited by Nick Gevers and Peter Crowther. You can download the story as the publisher's website for free at the moment.

I have my reservations about Olde Heuvelt making the short list to be honest. At first glance it sounds like a remarkable feat of a  man who is very driven to succeed as a writer. Congratulations on his nomination, which is certainly a momentous occasion in the history of Dutch genre fiction, are in order. On the other hand it is telling that a man who, to my knowledge, only has one short story out in English (a second story titled The Ink Readers of Doi Saket is scheduled to appear on Tor.com sometime in the near future) has managed to get nominated in what is essentially a popularity contest. The Hugo, supposedly the premier award in science fiction, has some credibility issues here. I guess this is an issue that comes up every year after the nominations are announced but clearly the need for a more robust membership base is still present. I haven't quite decided whether or not the very limited number of votes necessary to get on the ballot takes anything away from Olde Heuvelt's achievement or not. Of course it would have been a lot easier to make up my mind about this situation if he had submitted a story of lesser quality. Because The Boy Who Cast No Shadow is without a doubt worthy of the nomination.

The story is a fantastic piece about a boy named Look, who, as the title suggests, casts no shadow. He has no reflection in a mirror and no pictures can be taken of him. He doesn't know what he looks like and while his condition brings him his fifteen minutes of fame, is also causes him to wonder who he is. Not being able to see his face brings on an identity crises of sorts. Until he meets a boy who has a very different problem that is. Splinter is a boy named of glass, he is so fragile that even at the age of fourteen, he is the oldest boy with this condition in his family to survive. Despite this challenge he is an eternal optimist. Splinter will change the way Look views life forever.

As in Harten Sara, Olde Heuvelt uses the unreliable narrator to make things that are clearly impossible become real. There is no doubt in Look's mind that what he experiences is real, giving the whole story a kind of surreal atmosphere. The absurd situations the boys find themselves in and the limitations Splinter in particular encounters are told by someone who is convinced all this is actually happening. It clashes with the reader's sense of disbelief in interesting ways if taken literally. As an expression of vulnerably it is very clear though. In a way Splinter is a more successful character than Look. He feels he doesn't know who he is and that he has no ambitions or goals in life. The world is full of people like that, I don't think not being able to look at yourself in the mirror in the morning is going to make much of a difference in that respect. All things considered, he handles his fame better than many other people would in his situation.

Having read the story both in the original Dutch and in the English translation I can say I like the translation a lot. It is a fairly loose translation I suppose, not following the original too literally in many places. It might be a touch too formal in some places. Olde Heuvelt uses a lot colloquialism in his writing, as one might expect in a story told from the point of view of a teenager. Some of that is quite difficult to translate directly but on the whole I think translator Laura Vroomen manages well enough. There are a few passages where she encounters more interesting problems. A reference to a commercial for instance, that is almost impossible to translate. Olde Heuvelt also uses one line of broken English in the Dutch version but in the translation it is grammatically correct. This is mostly due to the choice not to make Look too obviously Dutch. His name has been translated for instance, references to the town where he apparently lives, or, more likely, have been included because it sounds dorky in Dutch, has been removed, there's probably a few other minor things. Reading the Dutch version made me realize how much layers of meaning a text can actually have. It certainly isn't the easiest work to translate.

Will The Boy Who Cast No Shadow win a Hugo? Most likely not. To most of the voters he will be an unfamiliar name in a field of established authors. I also suspect that this kind of fantasy isn't the most popular among the Hugo voting crowd. I haven't read any of the other nominated works so I have no idea if there is any particular story that stands out in this crowd but from what I can tell, Olde Heuvelt is facing stiff competition. I don't think he'll get it but if he does, you won't hear me complain. The publication date of his fifth novel Hex is rapidly approaching. I'm looking forward to reading that.

Edited on April 28th 2013 to include the link to The Ink Readers of Doi-Saket.

Book Details
Title: The Boy Who Cast No Shadow
Author: Thomas Olde Heuvelt
Translation: Laura Vroomen
Publisher: PS Publishing
Year: 2011
Language: English
Format: e-book
First published: 2010

De Eerste God - Adrian Stone

My attention for Dutch language has been sorely lacking this year. The last time I reviewed one is a year ago, almost to the day. I am reading lots of short storied for the Fantastels contest at the moment but a full novel was a while ago. De Eerste God, final book in the Rune duology by Adrian Stone came out in September fortunately. I hate to leave series unfinished so this one was on my to read list. De Eerste God (literally: The First God) is his fifth novel, all set in the same universe. It is not necessary to have read Stone's trilogy centred around the monk Marak, but without having read De Achtste Rune, the novel makes no sense. It is a direct sequel. In fact, I think it could have been written as a single (admittedly pretty large) novel. This concluding volume is definitely lighter on social issues, I got the impression Stone had quite a bit of trouble tying up all the story lines he started in the first novel.

In Kadish, the God-Emperor Danobe has acquired the eighth rune, making him more powerful than any of his predecessors since the cataclysm that rocked the continent ages ago. This power has a price however. Danobe hears voices that drive him slowly insane. The only thing that can hold them at bay is the healing magic of Serina, enslaved priestess of Viguru. Danobe needs to stay focussed. He has a rival eighth after all. Ghelan has survived the trap set for him and has come out as powerful as the God-Emperor himself. These two men are the only ones who can stop the looming disaster created by the pair of them in the previous book. The dimension of the gods is still leaking into the world though the rift created by Ghelan. It must be stopped before it overwhelms the world. Only the eighths can do it, if they don't destroy each other first.

Stone spend much of the first novel laying out the stresses on Kadish society and showing the reader the nation was on the brink of collapse. In this novel, the inevitable happens and things come crashing down. It doesn't quite happen in the way the previous novel seemed to suggest though. Stone used his characters to show the various cracks and stresses in society in the first novel. This book is much more focussed on their personal challenges. The novel leaves very little space for what is going on outside the line of sight of the main characters. I thought this was pretty strange given all the rebellious talk, clashing interests and general discontent displayed in the first novel.

During his tyrannical rule Danobe is not concerned with the wellbeing of his subjects. His reign is one of unpredictability and ruthless action, the consequences of which can be felt far outside Kadish' borders. Stone captures the chaos and terror among his subjects very well. Even characters used to being in his presence fear his unpredictable temper. As a seventh rune magician he was already the most powerful magician in the nation. Now the eight rune distances him even more from ordinary mortals. The mad king is a figure that shows up in fantasy quite often, it is perhaps not the most original element in this novel but Danobe made me nervous so I guess it works to an extend.

His fellow eighth and adversary Ghelan faces the same challenge but deals with it in a different way. You could say Ghelan is a bit of an anti-hero. Where Danobe sought the power of the eighth rune, Ghelan had it trust upon him. It doesn't make a difference to the encroaching madness but where Danobe denies the connection and revels in the power it gives him, Ghelan would do anything to get rid of the rune altogether. He is haunted by guilt over his part in Danobe's rise and the rift between dimension he created. It makes him easily the most annoying character in the book. He is indecisive, stubborn and at times wallowing in self pity. For most of the novel I thought what he needed was a good kick in the backside to get him moving. When he finally does make a major decision, it is mostly driven by his own needs rather than the clean up the mess he got himself in.

The character the story revolved about in the first book, the priestess Serina is less prominent here. She is still being held but the God-Emperor in a strange mixture of enslavement and affection for her captor. Given the level of force being used and the mistreatment Serina is subjected to, this part of the story remains problematic. Her feelings towards the God-Emperor are hopelessly and unrealistically mixed. She does become a bit more calculating though, making sure that the child she carries will be the only one Danobe will ever have. In the novel, Serina's story line explored sexism and racism in Kadish. Something that moves to the background considerably in this book. Her healing skills are met with a kind of grudging respect but what more freedom might do for the nation is no longer of any concern to the other characters. In fact, the finale of the novel hints at a continuation of the suppression of women. I consider Serina's story line something of a missed opportunity.

In the end, the story  left we with mixed feelings. Stone delivers another competently written fantasy novel with De Eerste God but I don't think it lives up the the promise of De Achtste Rune. I got the impression he was struggling tying up all the loose ends and lost track of the implications of of what he showed the reader in the first novel. The Rune duology hides the bones of a larger, more complex tale than Stone ends up delivering. There is plenty to enjoy, De Eerste God is a decent, fast-paced read but I think it could have been more.

Book Details
Title: De Eerste God
Author: Adrian Stone
Publisher: Luitingh Fantasy
Pages: 363
Year: 2012
Language: Dutch
Format: Paperback
ISBN: 978-90-245-5120-0
First published: 2012