From /tmp/sf.4585 Thu Apr 22 01:10:02 1993 Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written Path: lysator.liu.se!isy!liuida!sunic!uunet!gatech!howland.reston.ans.net!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!sdd.hp.com!network.ucsd.edu!pacbell.com!amdahl!netcomsv!netcom.com!dani From: dani@netcom.com (Dani Zweig) Subject: Emerson: Night Threads #4 Message-ID: Organization: Netcom Online Communications Services (408-241-9760 login: guest) Date: Tue, 20 Apr 1993 05:06:56 GMT Lines: 64 I think the main reason I read Emerson's books is that I keep hoping she'll come out with something as enjoyable as "Princess of Flames" again. She never has, but neither has her work been bad enough to make one give up hope. "The Craft of Light" opens a few years after the original Night Threads trilogy, and proceeds to pick up some of the loose threads (no pun intended) left over from that series. If you've read that trilogy, this looks to be slightly better. (To my relief and gratitude, Emerson's dropped that nauseating bit about using rap to counteract magic, for one thing.) If you haven't, this book provides enough background. (Something it *doesn't* provide, is an indication that it is the start of a new trilogy, and not a one-shot.) In the first trilogy, three moderns are magicked into a medievaloid land in which magic works, to aid a deposed Ducal heir. There is absolutely nothing about that land to indicate whether it's part of another world, another time, an alternative history, another dimension, or what. Yet, at the end of the trilogy, one of the characters announces -- on little or no evidence that the reader is ever shown -- that the land is an isolated counterpart to California in an alternative- history Earth. In this book, something is actually done with that. While this land has had half a millenium of isolation, the rest of the world is not that different from our own nineteenth-century. Americans (they have only recently -- and peacefully -- separated from England) are building their railways westward, England is a major world power, and there is a major (Incan?) empire in South America. And the land's isolation is breaking down. Three major converging plots are launched in book four (as well as a few minor ones which might become more important). One of the three outlanders becomes the target of assassination attempts linked to some characters who got away in the first trilogy. Another comes across evidence of a deliberate foreign plot to bring down the government through the use of smuggled drugs. And the Duke's sister -- a major character from the first trilogy -- involves herself in a movement to obtain rights for women in another, repressive Duchy. I have to admit that I find the last of these irritating. The theme appears often enough in modern fantasy that I assume it must be emotionally satisfying to many readers -- I can't judge -- but it strikes me as silly in context. I can't think of a single historical culture that could reasonably be described as viciously misogynistic, though they abound in fantasies. Juxtaposing a relatively modern response to such a situation is mostly a matter of letting wish-fulfillment get in the way of story-telling. All told, it's a midlist book that belongs on the midlist. I enjoyed it well enough to read the sequels. ----- Dani Zweig dani@netcom.com 'T is with our judgements as our watches, none Go alike, yet each believes his own --Alexander Pope