Joe Bernstein
2013-01-02 07:46:26 UTC
The Fiction of John Crowley
John Crowley has, since 1975, published, that I know of, one four-
volume novel, seven other novels, two novellas, five novelettes, and
fourteen short stories. [1] This body of work has been enough, for
the past three decades, to make him prominent in the field of
speculative fiction, and at least known in that of literary fiction.
In both, he's clearly a "writer's writer", many of the most
enthusiastic comments on his fiction coming from fellow writers of
fiction.
I'd intended to finish the four-volume novel in November; then it
dawned on me that 1 December was his seventieth birthday, and, well,
here we are. I assess the twenty-nine prose fictions known to me,
plus a years-earlier novel excerpt and a poem, and more briefly his
five fiction collections; I arrange these assessments by publication
date, and mark time by noting in which decade of his life each work
was published.
The reading underlying this post happened mostly in November and
mostly in publication order, reaching that month <Endless Things>.
In December I read the following works in the listed order: <Four
Freedoms>, "And Go Like This", <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's
Heroines>, <Conversation Hearts>, "Somewhere to Elsewhere", "Glow
Little Glowworm". Of course, in the process of writing this post in
December, I did considerable re-reading (including essentially all
of _Ægypt_ [2]). In any event, all my reading up to publication
date 1994 was re-reading, with the arguable exception of "Somewhere
to Elsewhere"; the only things later than 1994, read by me before
November, are <The Translator> and about the first thirty pages of
<Dæmonomania>. I so consistently found myself re-reading the works I
hadn't read before, in order to write about them, that I made it a
policy, so no entry below is based on only one reading. (I also
wound up writing about these works at much greater length, by and
large.) However, I discuss "The Single Excursion of Caspar Last"
below without having read it *as such*, and more briefly discuss "The
Squire Completes His Tale", three known unpublished works, and two
possible published ones, without having read *any* of these *at all*.
Disclaimer: I ran, in the mid- and late 1990s, the first English-
language website about Crowley. It was unauthorised; I received two
e-mails, while the site was up, which I now believe really were from
him and his sister, but which I didn't answer at the time. Much
later, I met him in 2009, when he came to Seattle promoting <Four
Freedoms>, and we talked briefly about the site (though I'm not sure
he actually remembered mine, as opposed to later ones); he gave me an
e-mail address (that from which one of those 1990s e-mails had been
sent, in fact; I don't currently have access to that address, so
don't ask me for it, please). I may end up using parts of this post
in creating *another* Crowley website, probably unauthorised, in the
future, if I ever again run a personal website.
[1] Two relatively recent works strike me as near the edges of the
length categories: I list <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines>
as a novelette, but it may be a novella; and I list "Glow Little
Glowworm" as a short story, but it may be a novelette.
[2] Properly, I should call the four-volume novel <Ægypt>, by my
usual system of noting titles of books (feature films, albums) with
less-than and greater-than signs. Unfortunately, there *is* a book
titled <Ægypt>, the first edition (or, depending what you mean by
"edition", the first several editions) of what should be called <The
Solitudes>, the first volume of the four-volume novel. So instead
I'm using for the complete work other people's usual system, noting
the title with underline signs.
Style and Motifs
Crowley doesn't really write in what we call a "transparent" style,
but he isn't far from it; I'd say he's about as hard to read as
Patricia McKillip. Like McKillip (and other authors), he sometimes
allows important events to go unremarked while narrating (in his
case, often clearly) something much less significant. He also tends,
in dialogue and in writing tighter to a POV, to use sentence
fragments in consistent ways - a trivial example is the greeting "Hi
hi hi" which several characters use.
His tightness to POVs varies considerably, except in his few clearly
first-person narratives. He tends to use an omniscient perspective,
but can go on for enough pages in a single character's POV to obscure
this. In his two latest longer books (<Endless Things> and <Four
Freedoms>) he occasionally uses a first-person voice seeming distinct
from all the apparent POVs, but the one in <Four Freedoms>, if
interpreted as an actual human, is impossible (a child in the 1950s
but an adult in the 1940s); I doubt any literal reading of either
apparent narrator has any value. (Both make considerable sense
metaphorically.)
Most of his novels are divided into parts, each part further divided
into chapters; either of these divisions can have epigraphs or titles
(the extreme case being <Little, Big>, which has many of each).
<Beasts> (divided into long chapters) and <Lord Byron's Novel> (for
whose structure see the relevant entry) are the exceptions.
He's well known for writing that engages with history (not only in
fiction; he's also written documentary films, mostly historical, for
over thirty years). On this reading, my first encounter with his
relatively splashy recent statements on the subject, I also concluded
that his writing has long engaged with *difference*, meaning
specifically characters different from a perceived norm in some
bodily, mental, or sexual way. Obviously, this is a formula for what
every writer who characterises does, so isn't useful left this vague.
More precisely, then, the only mental differences I see as
consistently interesting him have to do with a complex consisting of
vagueness, indecisiveness, and fecklessness; <Beasts> and <Little,
Big> offer contrasting pictures of this (with something akin to it in
<Engine Summer>), followed by much analysis in, in particular,
_Ægypt_, "In Blue", and "Little Yeses, Little Nos", and another
picture in <Conversation Hearts>. (I'd be shocked if he weren't
drawing on life here, depicting either his own psyche or one he knows
very well.)
Bodily differences - besides the obvious ones in, most notably,
<Beasts> and <Great Work of Time> - vary more widely; major
characters include two hunchbacks, an epileptic, two polio survivors,
and two people whose back problems put them on crutches. He has
not, however, written about superpeople, vampiric or otherwise,
except to the minimal extent of occasional very good-looking
characters, e.g. the narrator of "Snow". It's worth noting that
Straight Ahead Pictures, a documentary filmmaking company he and his
wife founded in 1989, focuses on the history of, more or less, the
human body, and claims to include a "Disability History Museum".
Sexual differences include both male and female homosexuality, each
treated both as an occasional practice and as an identity, as well as
bondage and domination, treated as an occasional practice, and
voyeurism, treatment not specified. On my website, I used to
complain specifically about his treatment of male homosexuality,
which at that time rather stood out in a chronological reading. In
<The Deep>, <Little, Big>, and <Love & Sleep>, male homosexual sex
appears as a sort of ne plus ultra of degradation for those who
engage in it (admittedly, it's less traumatic in "In Blue"); in
<Beasts>, if not also <Great Work of Time>, resisting homosexual
temptation comes in for a sort of applause that resisting
heterosexual temptation rarely elicits in Crowley's work; and not
only was the only clearly gay-identified character thus far (in
_Ægypt_) an extreme case of fecklessness, but both he and the male
homosexuals in <The Deep> fit stereotypes all too well. Crowley's
later books pay considerably less attention to the whole topic, but
in the second half of _Ægypt_ he introduces another, less campy, gay-
identified character as POV and deepens his portrayal of the first,
making it just possible to see it all in the less tendentious light
of the rest of his portrayals of difference, as above. He has never
seemed equally critical of lesbianism, which has bit parts in
<Little, Big> and _Ægypt_, is prominent in "In Blue" and <Lord
Byron's Novel>, and seems likely in the future of a major character
in <Four Freedoms>.
Several of Crowley's earlier works relate to the end of the world,
which at one level is _Ægypt_'s main topic. This end is not so much
the nuclear nightmare you might expect a writer of his age to focus
on (though <The Translator> later broached that apocalypse) as the
end which many of us on the left and in the counterculture imagined
in the 1970s, the gradual winding down or sudden crash of
civilisation under its own colossal weight. (One could without
difficulty argue that the left's enamourment with such apocalypses
was an excellent reason for America's rightward turn circa 1980. I
leave the present American right's fascination with them as an
exercise for the class.) It's conceivable, though implausible, that
the apocalypse that begins in <Little, Big> could be the same as that
we see midstream in <Beasts> and whose aftermath <Engine Summer>
depicts. After studying these ideas at their source (the 1970s
counterculture) in _Ægypt_, he seems to have fully outgrown the
theme.
One more trivial motif became obvious to me in this reading: His
stories set during his lifetime often have protagonists whose
birthdates could very well be the same as his own. This is most
obviously true of Pierce Moffett in _Ægypt_ and Christa Malone in
<The Translator>, but also of at least Evan S. Barnable (and no, I
hadn't caught that pun until this writing) in <Little, Big> and
either or both of the main characters in <The Girlhood of
Shakespeare's Heroines>; it's presumably true of a few of Crowley's
shorter first-person stories without any actual evidence, most
obviously "The Reason for the Visit". "Little Yeses, Little Nos",
<Lord Byron's Novel>, and "Glow Little Glowworm" feature more
problematic birthdates, which I discuss in the relevant entries.
But probably at least four, maybe more, of Crowley's protagonists all
turned seventy a month ago too.
A final motif: Just as Crowley is a writer's writer, he's a bookish
writer. His works frequently contain significant books, or meditate
on them, or on writing as an activity; in that sense, he's perhaps
the most English professorly of front-rank speculative fiction
writers. I haven't checked exhaustively, but my *impression*, after
this reading, is that when he refers to a book published well before
1900, it's likely to be real, but sometime in the late 19th century,
he switches to invented writers and books. (There are a few
exceptions; in particular, in _Ægypt_, several books referred to only
glancingly are real, as was Dame Frances Yates.) In this reading I
made no serious effort to note his references to others' real
writing, modern or not [3], but did, primarily in the works I read
for the first time, catch quite a few self-references.
[3] - _Ægypt_, in particular, offers numerous examples of phrases
or even words that suggest, without ever confirming, allusion to
other spec-fic works. For example, when Crowley writes "fuliginous",
is he really just indulging a wide vocabulary? Does his frequent use
of "medicine" in close association with "melancholy" reflect only the
same Renaissance source as another author's title? How about
"figures of earth", rather less often used? Almost the only non-
self-reference I note below is of this type.
Series
So references bring us to the relationships between his *own* books.
Four - <The Solitudes> (originally published 1987 as <Ægypt>), <Love
& Sleep> (1994), <Dæmonomania> (2000), and <Endless Things> (2007) -
form an explicit series, variously titled _Ægypt_ (the title I use
throughout this post) or "The Ægypt Cycle". Separately, the
protagonist of "Little Yeses, Little Nos" (2005) reappears (not as
protagonist, and a bit later in his life) in "Glow Little Glowworm"
(2012). I know of no other links among Crowley's works important
enough to make reading any one work significant for ordinary
comprehension in reading any other work. However, there are many
arguable links among his works, which I call, in this post, "self-
references". I tried to deal with them all up here, but ended up
with a mess, so instead I cover all this intertextuality work by
work, below.
Other stuff
I list award nominations and wins taken pretty much straight from
Locus's "SF Awards Database" (<http://www.sfadb.com/>), with no
attempt to convert into each award's actual year and award name
conventions. (I ran out of time.)
I list places where each work is "in print" just for the heck of it.
I'm well aware that used copies of most things are cheap and easy to
find online. (Finding used Crowley titles *offline* is somewhat less
cheap and easy.) Furthermore, bookstore shelves often have out of
print things on them; for example, <Conversation Hearts> is out of
print, but there's a copy at the University of Washington Bookstore's
main branch. And again, copies of most out of print titles are
available new as well as used online; not only is this the default
situation at Amazon, but when I went to DreamHaven's website to find
out whether <An Earthly Mother Sits and Sings> was still in print
(yes), I also found a bunch of other Crowley titles offered new.
Well, heck, we used to do something similar (with fewer titles, since
there *were* fewer, then) at The Stars Our Destination. (On the
other hand, some of the *prices* DreamHaven is charging...)
*Anyway*, all of that said, my listing is not a work of perfection.
There are probably anthologies, older than about 1995, that include
a Crowley story, that are still in print; I normally didn't bother to
check with anything that old. (I did, however, check at Random
House, which has absorbed both Doubleday and Bantam, Crowley's early
book publishers.) Also, I almost never stumbled on an example of
Crowley being in print *outside the US*; considering that most of his
work has been in print here for *years* [4], which was far from typical
in the 1980s and 1990s, that strikes me as odd, and suggests flaws in
my methods. I didn't take any notice of translations at all.
Several times below I refer to a collection of Crowley's papers at
the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of
Texas at Austin. This collection apparently results from purchases
in 1992, 1994, and 2000; it's therefore fitting that the "finding
aid" documenting it, and in particular the "biographical sketch"
beginning that document, which may have been written by Lisa Jones in
2001, exist in several states. The one I cite (and repeatedly
contradict) is that in Microsoft Word format, but the same things
appear in the HTML version; I didn't check the PDF. The (ugly and
possibly unstable) URL is:
<http://research.hrc.utexas.edu:8080/hrcxtf/view?docId=ead/00145.xml>
- or you can just reach it from the Wikipedia article on Crowley.
[4] Of my list of twenty-nine prose fictions, two - <The Girlhood
of Shakespeare's Heroines> and <Conversation Hearts> - are clearly
out of print, and one - "The Single Excursion of Caspar Last" - is
out of print as such, but in print as incorporated into <Great Work
of Time>. Outside that list, "Somewhere to Elsewhere" is out of
print as such, but in print as (re-)incorporated into <Little, Big>;
"The Squire Completes His Tale", and any hypothetical fiction in the
two publications mentioned as potential sites for it, are out of
print altogether.
Acknowledgements
To write this while homeless, and far from much of my own Crowley
collection, I needed several things: a computer to write on, places
to read, do research, and write (these latter requiring inter alia
power and net access for the computer), and copies of most of the
works (as well as some offline research materials).
Computer: David Goldfarb kindly sent me a laptop after my first was
stolen, and this post has been written entirely on that computer.
Workspace: All over the place. I've even worked on this post in a
doorway or two, but more substantially in:
* The Seattle Public Library, Central and Capitol Hill branches
* The Washington State Convention and Trade Center
* The Elliott Bay Book Co.
* Half Price Books, Capitol Hill branch
* Seattle University's Lemieux Library and its Student Center
* The University of Washington's Suzzallo & Allen Libraries, its
Husky Union Building, and its University Bookstore's U District
Branch
Power came from SPL, Elliott Bay, SU, and the UW libraries. SPL,
Elliott Bay, Half Price, and to a limited extent the other libraries
provided net access. SPL, the UW libraries, Elliott Bay, and also
Bulldog News, provided research assistance. All were surprisingly
welcoming to such a scruffy person as I've been, most of the time I
worked on this.
Books:
* The Seattle Public Library, Central branch (for <Otherwise>,
<Novelties & Souvenirs>, <The Translator>, <Four Freedoms>, and
"Little Yeses, Little Nos")
* Barnes & Noble, downtown Seattle branch, and the Seattle Public
Library, Capitol Hill branch (both for <Little, Big>)
* Seattle University's Lemieux Library (for "Little Yeses, Little
Nos", first reading)
* The University [of Washington] Bookstore, U District branch
(for <Otherwise>, error-checking only)
* The University of Washington's Suzzallo and Allen Libraries (for
"Somewhere to Elsewhere", books on Giordano Bruno, an editor's
name, and <Omni> issues)
* The Timberland Regional Library, Shelton branch, also known as
the William G. Reed Public Library (for <Conjunctions:39 The
New Wave Fabulists>, for <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's
Heroines>)
* The King County Library System, Fairwood branch (for
<Conversation Hearts>)
* Half Price Books, Capitol Hill branch (for <Beasts>, Blue-
hunting only)
* The Elliott Bay Book Co. (for Boswell and Chaucer)
My book logs have recorded my willingness to read whole books at
bookstores, and these months of being too broke to buy them have
hardly diminished that, but for this project, I actually read only
<Little, Big> thus (it arrived in my reading schedule during the
*one* week I *couldn't* get an SPL copy using the hold system!).
Otherwise, I only abused bookstores' stock as indicated above.
The bus fares to Shelton and Renton (Fairwood) were paid from money
that, rather to my surprise, people on the street have given me
simply for being visibly homeless.
Posting: Thank God, on New Year's Day Uncle Elizabeth's, an Internet
cafe near me, stayed open til midnight.
HIS 20S
"The Squire Completes His Tale", length ?, <Pegasus> ed ? 1964,
genre ?
The title justifies me, I think, in assuming that this poem is
narrative fiction, whether it represents the completion itself, or
the situation of the squire completing. Chaucer's "Squire's Tale" is
indeed an incomplete narrative poem; it also mæanders some, and I
think it possible that Chaucer's depiction of the host praising it
and going on to the next teller may actually portray a diplomatic
shutting-up of the youngster. Chaucer's tale is fantasy (in the
first part, a diplomat shows up offering tons of magic items as
gifts, and the existing parts of the poem confirm the powers of two
of these), but I don't know whether Crowley's completion, *if* a
completion, is; if it's actually at the fictional level of the teller
rather than the tale, it probably isn't fantasy.
Although many periodicals have used the title <Pegasus>, I eventually
thought to check Crowley's alma mater, and turns out Indiana
University's English Department published a literary journal thus
titled, from 1962 to 1967. I think 1964 is the year Crowley
graduated. Near as I can tell, libraries with the relevant issue
include Indiana University's (duh), North Carolina State
University's, and the University of North Texas's. I hope, by making
some calls tomorrow, to see what more I can find out about this poem.
Not shown as *in* print by the publisher, but you could try calling
the department on a slow day to see whether anyone there is willing
to check their storage... I found no copies at Amazon nor at
abebooks.com (but both have issues described as coming from volume 4
in 1965, which is wrong, so for all I know they could actually have
the relevant issue from volume 2); Goodwill in Indianapolis tried and
failed to auction a lot of five issues last March, and might still
have them, but I don't know whether this issue was/is included.
(I refer to the *un*published early work below, in re <Love & Sleep>
and <Novelties & Souvenirs>. I haven't read any of it either.)
HIS 30S
I don't know when Crowley started writing the earliest of his
published prose, but do know that <The Deep>, <Beasts>, <Engine
Summer>, <Little, Big>, _Ægypt_, and <Great Work of Time> all had
gestations of at least a decade. Also, his *published* career (one
poem and one hypothetical aside) begins with novels, and especially
early on, shorter works are few (implying there wasn't much in the
trunk). The Texas "finding aid" makes it clear that he in fact
started with shorter works (stories as well as a play and at least
two poems), but most things from this period which he's seen fit to
publish, even revised, appear to be the novels.
??? [?, length ?, <National Peep> ed ? 1973, genre ?]
The Texas "finding aid" lists in its last box, which gets minimal
explanation, two copies of a July ?1972 issue of <National Peep>.
My best assessment of the testimonies of many websites is this:
<National Peep> is a four-page mock tabloid produced by John Waters
and/or Saliva Films in July, 1973 during Saliva Films' distribution
of <Pink Flamingos>. (This is presumably why Texas puts this to
1972 - the movie premiered late that year.) It was apparently given
to moviegoers, and is now rare. (No library admits to owning a copy
in Worldcat; auctions, which are most of the websites that mention
it, get decent prices.)
It wouldn't shock me if Crowley had something to do with this
tabloid, most obviously by writing some or all of it, for two reasons
beyond these copies' presence in the archive. First, see the roughly
contemporary involvement with a less lauded or successful boundary-
testing movie, by a character Crowley endows with many reflections of
his own biography, in <The Solitudes>. Second, Crowley's blog
includes an entry in which he remembers writing copy about <Pink
Flamingos> for a movie catalogue. Hypothesising that he also wrote
part of this, but didn't mention it in the blog, calls for only a
little failure of memory (which the following item renders plausible)
and/or, I think, a little discretion. It *would* surprise me if this
hypothetical writing were a lost great work of art, but given that a
reader on goodreads.com calls it "a fake scandal newspaper", it
probably would be fiction.
Out of print, obviously.
??? ["Somewhere to Elsewhere", novel excerpt, <The Little Magazine>
ed ? 1974, fantasy]
??? ["The Single Excursion of Caspar Last", short story, <Gallery>
ed ? 1974, science fiction]
As a Yale faculty member, Crowley has posted a curriculum vitae, from
roughly 2006, online; see
<http://english.yale.edu/sites/default/files/CV-crowley_0.pdf>.
This dates two publications to 1974. The bibliography at Wikipedia
and its numerous clones, which probably derives from that by Graham
Sleight, pp. 385-390 in <Snake's-Hands> (second edition) edited by
Alice Turner and Michael Andre-Driussi, Rockville, MD: Wildside
Press, 2003, however, dates them later, where I list one (the other,
later still). Note, by the way, that that CV provides an e-mail
address for Crowley, which is not the one I mentioned above. Since
I've never yet e-mailed him at any address, I can't say anything
about how promptly he replies.
I should emphasise that I don't own, and haven't read, <Snake's-
Hands>, in either edition, much though I'd like to. Needless to say,
there's no public copy near Seattle. I consulted Sleight's
bibliography, to the extent that I did, via Google Books, which is
willing to show one page per "preview".
<The Deep>, novel, Doubleday 1975, speculative fiction
<The Deep> is a strange beginning for the career that followed it.
Where <Engine Summer> and <Little, Big> (both by 1975 long begun) as
well as _Ægypt_ and <Beasts> (as yet unstarted, I think, though the
*idea* for <Beasts> is much older) are more or less pastoral and more
or less set in America (especially the part we in the US call "the
Northeast"), <The Deep>, a very *short* novel, has as setting a place
somewhat like some mythical takes on the world's structure, a disc of
a world supported by a pillar, around which wraps Leviathan; and
although some of its pages describe the landscape, it can hardly be
called pastoral. (In fact, pretty much the first insightful comment
I saw on <The Deep> compared it to drama.)
Its plot has two strands. It begins with a Visitor, wounded and
amnesiac and utterly unlike any other person on the disc in more than
"his" sexlessness, who knows "him"self made and seeks "his" purpose;
separately, it follows the politics of the disc, Red and Black and
Gray and Just, which seem to echo the Wars of the Roses (or at least,
I gather, Shakespeare's *dramas* of those wars), but to follow a
fated pattern, which the Visitor's arrival deflects into change.
One part of that pattern is the Just, a secret society of assassins.
The Just are the only people on the disc with guns. Each of the
Just has a Gun, and each has a name; and each Gun of the Just has a
name, and each name of the Just has a name. I mention all this
mainly because of a reference later books seem to make, but also
because it's the kind of exoticon Crowley's most exotic work
features.
In print in <Otherwise>, listed below.
<Beasts>, novel, Doubleday 1976, science fiction
Although <Beasts> is probably my least favourite of his novels, it
makes a much more plausible start for Crowley's later career than
does <The Deep>. It's far more pastoral, and its main setting is,
near as I can tell, the northeastern US. (Here "the Northern
Autonomy" in a balkanised US of the 2070s.) Here, differences are
the main theme: sometime prior to the action, several experiments
had resulted in a viable population of lion-men, as well as a sterile
fox-man and an intelligent dog; we get each as POVs. Some human POVs
show the "leos'" effects on some humans (perhaps Crowley's nearest
approach to the 1970s spec-fic obsession with transcendence); other
humans, not POVs, focus mainly on using the leos as Others for
political purposes, with typical bad behaviour resulting. We also
see the education of geese, hawks, and princes. This is Crowley's
nearest approach to an ordinary genre novel, in this case 1970s
mystical science fiction.
For comparison to future works, note that some villains spout the
phrase "holocompetent act-fields", and some other people are
described as "in Blue", without further explanation. One of the
first references to "Blue" suggests that these groups may overlap,
but this is never confirmed, and Crowley later describes the villains
as dressing quite differently.
In print in <Otherwise>, listed below.
"Antiquities", short story, <Whispers> ed Schiff 1977, fantasy
Crowley's first normally acknowledged published story is a bit of a
triviality, a "club story", a tall tale about the "Inconstancy
Plague" of Cheshire and its surprising cause. It is, however,
thoroughly convincing as such - the club, the narrator, and the
plague all well depicted.
This is the earliest of the seven stories in the 1993 collection
<Antiquities>, a title chosen, I'm pretty sure, more for the contrast
with the earlier collection <Novelty> than in honour of this
particular story. The copyright acknowledgements for the collection
<Novelties & Souvenirs> represent exactly these seven stories, only,
as having first been published "in a slightly different version". As
best I recall, I've read none as first published (though I do own
such copies of most), so technically, the versions I've read all have
1993 revision dates.
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>, and in <Tails of Wonder and
Imagination> ed Datlow, as a trade paperback from Night Shade.
"Somewhere to Elsewhere (part of a work in progress)", novel excerpt,
<The Little Magazine> ed Stephens & Thoet 1978, fantastique
Websites had already shown me that this appeared in volume 11,
dated 1977, before I saw a copy myself. So Crowley's CV is wrong in
dating the publication to 1974. The issue is copyright 1978, and the
editorial mentions February as publication date for this nominally
"summer" issue. The UW got its copy a year later, but the copyright
dates form a consistent and plausible chain from volumes 10 to 13
(when they gave up pretending to be a quarterly), so I'm going with
February 1978. No matter what, the 2000 album of this title by the
rock group Kansas (which I haven't heard, though I remain fond of
some of their music) is later.
Given Crowley's later career, and the reputation of "little
magazines", I'd better note that this particular <Little Magazine>,
at this particular time, drew no clear line between literary and
genre writers. This issue's other prose was by "Tom Disch" and
Carol Emshwiller, believe it or not; and the editorial group included
David Hartwell and Ginjer Buchanan. Other writers I recognised,
going through volumes 10-13, include Ursula Le Guin and Rudy Rucker,
not counting the poetry (volume 12 nos 3-4 features poems by a Judith
Moffett and a Wade Wellman, the latter "part of a series"; Disch had
poems in most issues).
Wikipedia asserts that this is the first chapter of <Little, Big>,
whose published first chapter indeed features the phrase "somewhere
to elsewhere" both in its text and in its argument. (I don't know
whether Kansas got the title from <Little, Big> or from here, but,
well, it's pretty obvious which is the likelier bet.) However,
it actually consists of earlier versions of the following text from
book one, "Edgewood": the first paragraph of chapter I; the final
section of chapter I, titled "Junipers"; and all the sections now
in chapter II, in the order they have there. I compared the first
paragraph and "Junipers" to the versions in <Little, Big>, and spot-
checked a couple more sections; the differences are mostly of the
polishing sort, though one sentence in this "Junipers" comes from
elsewhere in the later chapter I. At least two sentences refer to
the missing parts of the later chapter I. Which, by the way, include
all repetitions of the phrase "somewhere to elsewhere", which appears
in this issue of the <Little Magazine> only as a title. It's pretty
clear that something approximating the rest of chapter I already
existed, though not included in this publication.
On first reading, given that I'd just been comparing it to the novel,
I couldn't ignore my foreknowledge at all. On second reading, I was
just able to see how carefully at each step Crowley suggests, but
doesn't insist on, fantasy. This is, of course, similarly true of
the novel's opening, but I've long since lost the ability to ignore
my foreknowledge *there*. This excerpt narrates the preparations for
a wedding, but stops short of the wedding itself, so even without the
backward glances to absent chapter I, it's intrinsically incomplete.
I have no idea what the average reader of the magazine made of it, or
what *you*'ll make of it in the unlikely event that you look at this
before looking at <Little, Big>.
Since both the magazine and the distributor have folded, I'm fairly
sure this is out of print. Unlike the other out of print items
listed in this post, it's pretty easy to find in academic libraries.
Also, the experience of reading the listed sections of <Little, Big>
isn't much different.
"Her Bounty to the Dead", aka "Where Spirits Gat Them Home", short
story, <Shadows> ed Grant 1978, Gothic
In which a New England drive, by a priest and his aunt, ends badly;
in which faith and unbelief face each other. I never remember this
story properly, and so never think I understand it at all. It's
another <Antiquities> story.
For Texas's linkage of it with the unpublished story "Holy Saturday"
see footnotes [8] and [10] below sv <Love & Sleep>.
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>.
<Engine Summer>, novel, Doubleday 1979, science fiction
Nominee, 1980 John W. Campbell Memorial Award
Nominee, 1981 British SF Association Award for Novel
Nominee, 1980 American Book Award for SF Hardcover
Traditionally, a "masterwork" (or "masterpiece") was the work by
which a journeyman in a craft demonstrated mastery. By that
standard, though my old website called <Engine Summer> Crowley's
masterpiece, I suppose it was really <The Deep>, or at latest
<Beasts>.
But <Engine Summer> is certainly his first great novel.
This is the story of Rush that Speaks, a much-traveled teenager from
Palm cord in Little Belaire. Little Belaire is a settlement of
Truthful Speakers sometime probably centuries (rather than decades or
millennia) from now, in North America (and, I suspect, New England).
Rush tells of his boyhood in Belaire and the growth of his love for
Once a Day, until she leaves with the traveling merchants from Dr.
Boots's List; and how, (not many) years later, he too leaves,
questing to become a saint - which, in Little Belaire's terms, means
someone who can "tell all stories in the single story of [his] own
life" - or at least to find Once a Day; and perhaps to fulfill a
prophecy made in Belaire, that he'll live "many lives in the moment
between birth and dying". ("Many Lives" was apparently one working
title, and is the title of the first part. Among the Texas papers is
a draft with another working title, "Learning to Live with It".)
Much of what he learns, at home and still more so as he travels, has
to do with the "angels" who built the dead cities and Road, who
invented "medicine's daughters" and sent out the spaceships, whose
pursuit of Everything They Wanted finally brought them (us) to ruin;
only late in the book does he learn what Everything They Wanted
really meant. In the meantime his home and his experiences provide
the only other concentrated supply of the exotic, besides <The Deep>,
that Crowley has published to date.
Does summer ever end? Does summer ever come? I can't imagine coming
to this novel in middle age; I came to it younger than its narrator
[5], it's the work by Crowley that I've read the most times (ten or
so), and his depiction of human North America in its Indian summer
became part of my own understanding of the world. To that extent,
both Rush and Crowley succeeded in their quests, and I must fail in
mine, for ultimately I probably can't put into words what I find
great in this book.
In print in <Otherwise>. Scheduled to appear in the "SF Masterworks"
series 10 January 2013.
[5] Yes, strictly speaking, <Engine Summer> is in dialogue form,
and has no narrator. But considering that Rush, who speaks far more
than his interlocutor, does very little *but* narrate, I don't think
it's unreasonable to call him a narrator anyway.
??? [?, length ?, <Intermountain Express> ed ? 1979, genre ?]
The Texas "finding aid" lists, again in the last, little-annotated,
box, two copies of the August 24, 1979 issue of <Intermountain
Express>. I'm pretty sure this is a newspaper that published for
just under a year from Hillsdale, NY. August 24 was a Friday, as
were the start and end dates, so it was probably a weekly. Hillsdale
is very near the NY-MA state line, and some western MA towns I know
Crowley to have lived in around this time. Libraries I know to have
copies of issues of this newspaper are the New York State Library
(whose run ends in June 1979), Texas (as indicated), and Columbia-
Greene Community College's, of Hudson, NY, which like the center in
Texas is closed through today; I plan to call them tomorrow and see
what they can tell me. As with <National Peep>, these copies'
presence in this box could (but need not) mean Crowley had something
in that issue, but in this case there's no obvious reason to assume
that, if so, the work in question was fiction.
The newspaper went out of business a couple of months later; I'm
quite confident this issue is out of print.
"The Single Excursion of Caspar Last", short story, <Gallery> ed
Shapiro [6] 1979, science fiction
By <Gallery> I do mean the men's magazine. Since libraries don't
store this sort of magazine, and used bookstores don't buy such
obscure ones, I lack access to a copy, whether I'd only read it for
the articles or not. A magazine dealer's website provides the full
table of contents, complete with blurbs, and yes, the December 1979
issue is unequivocally the right one, contra Crowley's CV.
OK, so I haven't read this. I have, however, read <Great Work of
Time>, for which see below. And one of the problems I've always had
with <Great Work of Time> is solved by this story's existence (of
which I hadn't known until recently): it's all told from the POV of
Denys Winterset, except the bulk of the first section, which is in
Caspar Last's. The two POVs have very different tones, too: Last
sounds precise with just a touch of ebullience, Winterset almost
mournfully elegiac. So even though <Great Work> contains, in its
*third* section, an ironic ending to Last's story, I find perfectly
plausible Sleight's comment on this story: "Reprinted, with minor
revisions, as the first section of" <Great Work>.
The story itself? Well, just as "Antiquities" is a club story, but a
club story as written by Crowley, this here is an adventurous jape -
Yet Another Variation on how to make lots of money with time travel,
without creating temporal mayhem - but an adventurous jape ... as
written by Crowley. It's pretty fun, which is part of why it so
poorly introduces the darker novella it's been incorporated into.
(Yes, I know, all other human beings disagree with me on this, and
consider <Great Work> the best thing Crowley's ever written. Fine,
but this is me posting, and you have every right to reply as *you*
wish. I'm just happy to have, at long last, an explanation for a
sizeable part of my problem with the novella.)
Not, as far as I know, in print as such, though the experience of
reading the described section of <Great Work of Time> presumably
isn't too different (and is, of course, what I described above).
[6] Shapiro's name is what I needed research assistance from the UW
to find. This was stupid of me, since the same web page that shows
the table of contents also shows the masthead, but anyway.
Crowley's blog includes a post in memory of Bob Guccione, who did
publish "Snow", probably his most famous short work; in that post he
remembers this story as also going to Guccione, but not so: Nils
Shapiro was both editor and publisher. This post on Guccione drew an
... interesting set of comments; a fair number that were more or less
what you might expect, mostly by men, and two by Ellen Datlow and
Elizabeth Hand that very professionally ignored all those guys to
focus on Guccione as buyer of fiction and/or employer.
"The Reason for the Visit", short story, <Interfaces> ed Le Guin &
Kidd 1980, fable
I see this, the third <Antiquities> story, as a turning point in
Crowley's career. He had written three more or less science
fictional novels, and stories for several markets in several manners.
But in this, whose narrator has met Max Beerbohm and Samuel Johnson
with some aplomb but finds in a visit from Virginia Woolf more food
for thought, he now appears to have asserted his subsequent métier,
to work with history.
I don't want to spoil what there is to this story, so I'll illustrate
instead with a striking anecdote told in _Ægypt_ (<Dæmonomania>,
"Uxor", chapter 13) by a character whose similarities to Crowley I'll
discuss below. Dr. Johnson's line, a second marriage is "the triumph
of hope over experience", is well known. But in Dr. Johnson's time,
second marriages rarely followed divorces; "experience" referred not
to discord, but to death. This - establishing just how something old
makes sense that either doesn't make sense now, or worse, makes it
wrongly - is just the kind of work with history this story announces
Crowley's intent to do; and of course the publication of this
anecdote represents his actually doing it.
(That said, turns out Crowley's character isn't 100% reliable as a
historian - nor, as we've already seen with his CV, is Crowley. The
actual source is a short paragraph midway through some disjointed
recollections which Boswell ascribes to Dr. William Maxwell: "A
gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, married immediately
after his wife died: Johnson said, it was the triumph of hope over
experience." Isn't this much nearer the modern meaning?)
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>.
John Crowley has, since 1975, published, that I know of, one four-
volume novel, seven other novels, two novellas, five novelettes, and
fourteen short stories. [1] This body of work has been enough, for
the past three decades, to make him prominent in the field of
speculative fiction, and at least known in that of literary fiction.
In both, he's clearly a "writer's writer", many of the most
enthusiastic comments on his fiction coming from fellow writers of
fiction.
I'd intended to finish the four-volume novel in November; then it
dawned on me that 1 December was his seventieth birthday, and, well,
here we are. I assess the twenty-nine prose fictions known to me,
plus a years-earlier novel excerpt and a poem, and more briefly his
five fiction collections; I arrange these assessments by publication
date, and mark time by noting in which decade of his life each work
was published.
The reading underlying this post happened mostly in November and
mostly in publication order, reaching that month <Endless Things>.
In December I read the following works in the listed order: <Four
Freedoms>, "And Go Like This", <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's
Heroines>, <Conversation Hearts>, "Somewhere to Elsewhere", "Glow
Little Glowworm". Of course, in the process of writing this post in
December, I did considerable re-reading (including essentially all
of _Ægypt_ [2]). In any event, all my reading up to publication
date 1994 was re-reading, with the arguable exception of "Somewhere
to Elsewhere"; the only things later than 1994, read by me before
November, are <The Translator> and about the first thirty pages of
<Dæmonomania>. I so consistently found myself re-reading the works I
hadn't read before, in order to write about them, that I made it a
policy, so no entry below is based on only one reading. (I also
wound up writing about these works at much greater length, by and
large.) However, I discuss "The Single Excursion of Caspar Last"
below without having read it *as such*, and more briefly discuss "The
Squire Completes His Tale", three known unpublished works, and two
possible published ones, without having read *any* of these *at all*.
Disclaimer: I ran, in the mid- and late 1990s, the first English-
language website about Crowley. It was unauthorised; I received two
e-mails, while the site was up, which I now believe really were from
him and his sister, but which I didn't answer at the time. Much
later, I met him in 2009, when he came to Seattle promoting <Four
Freedoms>, and we talked briefly about the site (though I'm not sure
he actually remembered mine, as opposed to later ones); he gave me an
e-mail address (that from which one of those 1990s e-mails had been
sent, in fact; I don't currently have access to that address, so
don't ask me for it, please). I may end up using parts of this post
in creating *another* Crowley website, probably unauthorised, in the
future, if I ever again run a personal website.
[1] Two relatively recent works strike me as near the edges of the
length categories: I list <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines>
as a novelette, but it may be a novella; and I list "Glow Little
Glowworm" as a short story, but it may be a novelette.
[2] Properly, I should call the four-volume novel <Ægypt>, by my
usual system of noting titles of books (feature films, albums) with
less-than and greater-than signs. Unfortunately, there *is* a book
titled <Ægypt>, the first edition (or, depending what you mean by
"edition", the first several editions) of what should be called <The
Solitudes>, the first volume of the four-volume novel. So instead
I'm using for the complete work other people's usual system, noting
the title with underline signs.
Style and Motifs
Crowley doesn't really write in what we call a "transparent" style,
but he isn't far from it; I'd say he's about as hard to read as
Patricia McKillip. Like McKillip (and other authors), he sometimes
allows important events to go unremarked while narrating (in his
case, often clearly) something much less significant. He also tends,
in dialogue and in writing tighter to a POV, to use sentence
fragments in consistent ways - a trivial example is the greeting "Hi
hi hi" which several characters use.
His tightness to POVs varies considerably, except in his few clearly
first-person narratives. He tends to use an omniscient perspective,
but can go on for enough pages in a single character's POV to obscure
this. In his two latest longer books (<Endless Things> and <Four
Freedoms>) he occasionally uses a first-person voice seeming distinct
from all the apparent POVs, but the one in <Four Freedoms>, if
interpreted as an actual human, is impossible (a child in the 1950s
but an adult in the 1940s); I doubt any literal reading of either
apparent narrator has any value. (Both make considerable sense
metaphorically.)
Most of his novels are divided into parts, each part further divided
into chapters; either of these divisions can have epigraphs or titles
(the extreme case being <Little, Big>, which has many of each).
<Beasts> (divided into long chapters) and <Lord Byron's Novel> (for
whose structure see the relevant entry) are the exceptions.
He's well known for writing that engages with history (not only in
fiction; he's also written documentary films, mostly historical, for
over thirty years). On this reading, my first encounter with his
relatively splashy recent statements on the subject, I also concluded
that his writing has long engaged with *difference*, meaning
specifically characters different from a perceived norm in some
bodily, mental, or sexual way. Obviously, this is a formula for what
every writer who characterises does, so isn't useful left this vague.
More precisely, then, the only mental differences I see as
consistently interesting him have to do with a complex consisting of
vagueness, indecisiveness, and fecklessness; <Beasts> and <Little,
Big> offer contrasting pictures of this (with something akin to it in
<Engine Summer>), followed by much analysis in, in particular,
_Ægypt_, "In Blue", and "Little Yeses, Little Nos", and another
picture in <Conversation Hearts>. (I'd be shocked if he weren't
drawing on life here, depicting either his own psyche or one he knows
very well.)
Bodily differences - besides the obvious ones in, most notably,
<Beasts> and <Great Work of Time> - vary more widely; major
characters include two hunchbacks, an epileptic, two polio survivors,
and two people whose back problems put them on crutches. He has
not, however, written about superpeople, vampiric or otherwise,
except to the minimal extent of occasional very good-looking
characters, e.g. the narrator of "Snow". It's worth noting that
Straight Ahead Pictures, a documentary filmmaking company he and his
wife founded in 1989, focuses on the history of, more or less, the
human body, and claims to include a "Disability History Museum".
Sexual differences include both male and female homosexuality, each
treated both as an occasional practice and as an identity, as well as
bondage and domination, treated as an occasional practice, and
voyeurism, treatment not specified. On my website, I used to
complain specifically about his treatment of male homosexuality,
which at that time rather stood out in a chronological reading. In
<The Deep>, <Little, Big>, and <Love & Sleep>, male homosexual sex
appears as a sort of ne plus ultra of degradation for those who
engage in it (admittedly, it's less traumatic in "In Blue"); in
<Beasts>, if not also <Great Work of Time>, resisting homosexual
temptation comes in for a sort of applause that resisting
heterosexual temptation rarely elicits in Crowley's work; and not
only was the only clearly gay-identified character thus far (in
_Ægypt_) an extreme case of fecklessness, but both he and the male
homosexuals in <The Deep> fit stereotypes all too well. Crowley's
later books pay considerably less attention to the whole topic, but
in the second half of _Ægypt_ he introduces another, less campy, gay-
identified character as POV and deepens his portrayal of the first,
making it just possible to see it all in the less tendentious light
of the rest of his portrayals of difference, as above. He has never
seemed equally critical of lesbianism, which has bit parts in
<Little, Big> and _Ægypt_, is prominent in "In Blue" and <Lord
Byron's Novel>, and seems likely in the future of a major character
in <Four Freedoms>.
Several of Crowley's earlier works relate to the end of the world,
which at one level is _Ægypt_'s main topic. This end is not so much
the nuclear nightmare you might expect a writer of his age to focus
on (though <The Translator> later broached that apocalypse) as the
end which many of us on the left and in the counterculture imagined
in the 1970s, the gradual winding down or sudden crash of
civilisation under its own colossal weight. (One could without
difficulty argue that the left's enamourment with such apocalypses
was an excellent reason for America's rightward turn circa 1980. I
leave the present American right's fascination with them as an
exercise for the class.) It's conceivable, though implausible, that
the apocalypse that begins in <Little, Big> could be the same as that
we see midstream in <Beasts> and whose aftermath <Engine Summer>
depicts. After studying these ideas at their source (the 1970s
counterculture) in _Ægypt_, he seems to have fully outgrown the
theme.
One more trivial motif became obvious to me in this reading: His
stories set during his lifetime often have protagonists whose
birthdates could very well be the same as his own. This is most
obviously true of Pierce Moffett in _Ægypt_ and Christa Malone in
<The Translator>, but also of at least Evan S. Barnable (and no, I
hadn't caught that pun until this writing) in <Little, Big> and
either or both of the main characters in <The Girlhood of
Shakespeare's Heroines>; it's presumably true of a few of Crowley's
shorter first-person stories without any actual evidence, most
obviously "The Reason for the Visit". "Little Yeses, Little Nos",
<Lord Byron's Novel>, and "Glow Little Glowworm" feature more
problematic birthdates, which I discuss in the relevant entries.
But probably at least four, maybe more, of Crowley's protagonists all
turned seventy a month ago too.
A final motif: Just as Crowley is a writer's writer, he's a bookish
writer. His works frequently contain significant books, or meditate
on them, or on writing as an activity; in that sense, he's perhaps
the most English professorly of front-rank speculative fiction
writers. I haven't checked exhaustively, but my *impression*, after
this reading, is that when he refers to a book published well before
1900, it's likely to be real, but sometime in the late 19th century,
he switches to invented writers and books. (There are a few
exceptions; in particular, in _Ægypt_, several books referred to only
glancingly are real, as was Dame Frances Yates.) In this reading I
made no serious effort to note his references to others' real
writing, modern or not [3], but did, primarily in the works I read
for the first time, catch quite a few self-references.
[3] - _Ægypt_, in particular, offers numerous examples of phrases
or even words that suggest, without ever confirming, allusion to
other spec-fic works. For example, when Crowley writes "fuliginous",
is he really just indulging a wide vocabulary? Does his frequent use
of "medicine" in close association with "melancholy" reflect only the
same Renaissance source as another author's title? How about
"figures of earth", rather less often used? Almost the only non-
self-reference I note below is of this type.
Series
So references bring us to the relationships between his *own* books.
Four - <The Solitudes> (originally published 1987 as <Ægypt>), <Love
& Sleep> (1994), <Dæmonomania> (2000), and <Endless Things> (2007) -
form an explicit series, variously titled _Ægypt_ (the title I use
throughout this post) or "The Ægypt Cycle". Separately, the
protagonist of "Little Yeses, Little Nos" (2005) reappears (not as
protagonist, and a bit later in his life) in "Glow Little Glowworm"
(2012). I know of no other links among Crowley's works important
enough to make reading any one work significant for ordinary
comprehension in reading any other work. However, there are many
arguable links among his works, which I call, in this post, "self-
references". I tried to deal with them all up here, but ended up
with a mess, so instead I cover all this intertextuality work by
work, below.
Other stuff
I list award nominations and wins taken pretty much straight from
Locus's "SF Awards Database" (<http://www.sfadb.com/>), with no
attempt to convert into each award's actual year and award name
conventions. (I ran out of time.)
I list places where each work is "in print" just for the heck of it.
I'm well aware that used copies of most things are cheap and easy to
find online. (Finding used Crowley titles *offline* is somewhat less
cheap and easy.) Furthermore, bookstore shelves often have out of
print things on them; for example, <Conversation Hearts> is out of
print, but there's a copy at the University of Washington Bookstore's
main branch. And again, copies of most out of print titles are
available new as well as used online; not only is this the default
situation at Amazon, but when I went to DreamHaven's website to find
out whether <An Earthly Mother Sits and Sings> was still in print
(yes), I also found a bunch of other Crowley titles offered new.
Well, heck, we used to do something similar (with fewer titles, since
there *were* fewer, then) at The Stars Our Destination. (On the
other hand, some of the *prices* DreamHaven is charging...)
*Anyway*, all of that said, my listing is not a work of perfection.
There are probably anthologies, older than about 1995, that include
a Crowley story, that are still in print; I normally didn't bother to
check with anything that old. (I did, however, check at Random
House, which has absorbed both Doubleday and Bantam, Crowley's early
book publishers.) Also, I almost never stumbled on an example of
Crowley being in print *outside the US*; considering that most of his
work has been in print here for *years* [4], which was far from typical
in the 1980s and 1990s, that strikes me as odd, and suggests flaws in
my methods. I didn't take any notice of translations at all.
Several times below I refer to a collection of Crowley's papers at
the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of
Texas at Austin. This collection apparently results from purchases
in 1992, 1994, and 2000; it's therefore fitting that the "finding
aid" documenting it, and in particular the "biographical sketch"
beginning that document, which may have been written by Lisa Jones in
2001, exist in several states. The one I cite (and repeatedly
contradict) is that in Microsoft Word format, but the same things
appear in the HTML version; I didn't check the PDF. The (ugly and
possibly unstable) URL is:
<http://research.hrc.utexas.edu:8080/hrcxtf/view?docId=ead/00145.xml>
- or you can just reach it from the Wikipedia article on Crowley.
[4] Of my list of twenty-nine prose fictions, two - <The Girlhood
of Shakespeare's Heroines> and <Conversation Hearts> - are clearly
out of print, and one - "The Single Excursion of Caspar Last" - is
out of print as such, but in print as incorporated into <Great Work
of Time>. Outside that list, "Somewhere to Elsewhere" is out of
print as such, but in print as (re-)incorporated into <Little, Big>;
"The Squire Completes His Tale", and any hypothetical fiction in the
two publications mentioned as potential sites for it, are out of
print altogether.
Acknowledgements
To write this while homeless, and far from much of my own Crowley
collection, I needed several things: a computer to write on, places
to read, do research, and write (these latter requiring inter alia
power and net access for the computer), and copies of most of the
works (as well as some offline research materials).
Computer: David Goldfarb kindly sent me a laptop after my first was
stolen, and this post has been written entirely on that computer.
Workspace: All over the place. I've even worked on this post in a
doorway or two, but more substantially in:
* The Seattle Public Library, Central and Capitol Hill branches
* The Washington State Convention and Trade Center
* The Elliott Bay Book Co.
* Half Price Books, Capitol Hill branch
* Seattle University's Lemieux Library and its Student Center
* The University of Washington's Suzzallo & Allen Libraries, its
Husky Union Building, and its University Bookstore's U District
Branch
Power came from SPL, Elliott Bay, SU, and the UW libraries. SPL,
Elliott Bay, Half Price, and to a limited extent the other libraries
provided net access. SPL, the UW libraries, Elliott Bay, and also
Bulldog News, provided research assistance. All were surprisingly
welcoming to such a scruffy person as I've been, most of the time I
worked on this.
Books:
* The Seattle Public Library, Central branch (for <Otherwise>,
<Novelties & Souvenirs>, <The Translator>, <Four Freedoms>, and
"Little Yeses, Little Nos")
* Barnes & Noble, downtown Seattle branch, and the Seattle Public
Library, Capitol Hill branch (both for <Little, Big>)
* Seattle University's Lemieux Library (for "Little Yeses, Little
Nos", first reading)
* The University [of Washington] Bookstore, U District branch
(for <Otherwise>, error-checking only)
* The University of Washington's Suzzallo and Allen Libraries (for
"Somewhere to Elsewhere", books on Giordano Bruno, an editor's
name, and <Omni> issues)
* The Timberland Regional Library, Shelton branch, also known as
the William G. Reed Public Library (for <Conjunctions:39 The
New Wave Fabulists>, for <The Girlhood of Shakespeare's
Heroines>)
* The King County Library System, Fairwood branch (for
<Conversation Hearts>)
* Half Price Books, Capitol Hill branch (for <Beasts>, Blue-
hunting only)
* The Elliott Bay Book Co. (for Boswell and Chaucer)
My book logs have recorded my willingness to read whole books at
bookstores, and these months of being too broke to buy them have
hardly diminished that, but for this project, I actually read only
<Little, Big> thus (it arrived in my reading schedule during the
*one* week I *couldn't* get an SPL copy using the hold system!).
Otherwise, I only abused bookstores' stock as indicated above.
The bus fares to Shelton and Renton (Fairwood) were paid from money
that, rather to my surprise, people on the street have given me
simply for being visibly homeless.
Posting: Thank God, on New Year's Day Uncle Elizabeth's, an Internet
cafe near me, stayed open til midnight.
HIS 20S
"The Squire Completes His Tale", length ?, <Pegasus> ed ? 1964,
genre ?
The title justifies me, I think, in assuming that this poem is
narrative fiction, whether it represents the completion itself, or
the situation of the squire completing. Chaucer's "Squire's Tale" is
indeed an incomplete narrative poem; it also mæanders some, and I
think it possible that Chaucer's depiction of the host praising it
and going on to the next teller may actually portray a diplomatic
shutting-up of the youngster. Chaucer's tale is fantasy (in the
first part, a diplomat shows up offering tons of magic items as
gifts, and the existing parts of the poem confirm the powers of two
of these), but I don't know whether Crowley's completion, *if* a
completion, is; if it's actually at the fictional level of the teller
rather than the tale, it probably isn't fantasy.
Although many periodicals have used the title <Pegasus>, I eventually
thought to check Crowley's alma mater, and turns out Indiana
University's English Department published a literary journal thus
titled, from 1962 to 1967. I think 1964 is the year Crowley
graduated. Near as I can tell, libraries with the relevant issue
include Indiana University's (duh), North Carolina State
University's, and the University of North Texas's. I hope, by making
some calls tomorrow, to see what more I can find out about this poem.
Not shown as *in* print by the publisher, but you could try calling
the department on a slow day to see whether anyone there is willing
to check their storage... I found no copies at Amazon nor at
abebooks.com (but both have issues described as coming from volume 4
in 1965, which is wrong, so for all I know they could actually have
the relevant issue from volume 2); Goodwill in Indianapolis tried and
failed to auction a lot of five issues last March, and might still
have them, but I don't know whether this issue was/is included.
(I refer to the *un*published early work below, in re <Love & Sleep>
and <Novelties & Souvenirs>. I haven't read any of it either.)
HIS 30S
I don't know when Crowley started writing the earliest of his
published prose, but do know that <The Deep>, <Beasts>, <Engine
Summer>, <Little, Big>, _Ægypt_, and <Great Work of Time> all had
gestations of at least a decade. Also, his *published* career (one
poem and one hypothetical aside) begins with novels, and especially
early on, shorter works are few (implying there wasn't much in the
trunk). The Texas "finding aid" makes it clear that he in fact
started with shorter works (stories as well as a play and at least
two poems), but most things from this period which he's seen fit to
publish, even revised, appear to be the novels.
??? [?, length ?, <National Peep> ed ? 1973, genre ?]
The Texas "finding aid" lists in its last box, which gets minimal
explanation, two copies of a July ?1972 issue of <National Peep>.
My best assessment of the testimonies of many websites is this:
<National Peep> is a four-page mock tabloid produced by John Waters
and/or Saliva Films in July, 1973 during Saliva Films' distribution
of <Pink Flamingos>. (This is presumably why Texas puts this to
1972 - the movie premiered late that year.) It was apparently given
to moviegoers, and is now rare. (No library admits to owning a copy
in Worldcat; auctions, which are most of the websites that mention
it, get decent prices.)
It wouldn't shock me if Crowley had something to do with this
tabloid, most obviously by writing some or all of it, for two reasons
beyond these copies' presence in the archive. First, see the roughly
contemporary involvement with a less lauded or successful boundary-
testing movie, by a character Crowley endows with many reflections of
his own biography, in <The Solitudes>. Second, Crowley's blog
includes an entry in which he remembers writing copy about <Pink
Flamingos> for a movie catalogue. Hypothesising that he also wrote
part of this, but didn't mention it in the blog, calls for only a
little failure of memory (which the following item renders plausible)
and/or, I think, a little discretion. It *would* surprise me if this
hypothetical writing were a lost great work of art, but given that a
reader on goodreads.com calls it "a fake scandal newspaper", it
probably would be fiction.
Out of print, obviously.
??? ["Somewhere to Elsewhere", novel excerpt, <The Little Magazine>
ed ? 1974, fantasy]
??? ["The Single Excursion of Caspar Last", short story, <Gallery>
ed ? 1974, science fiction]
As a Yale faculty member, Crowley has posted a curriculum vitae, from
roughly 2006, online; see
<http://english.yale.edu/sites/default/files/CV-crowley_0.pdf>.
This dates two publications to 1974. The bibliography at Wikipedia
and its numerous clones, which probably derives from that by Graham
Sleight, pp. 385-390 in <Snake's-Hands> (second edition) edited by
Alice Turner and Michael Andre-Driussi, Rockville, MD: Wildside
Press, 2003, however, dates them later, where I list one (the other,
later still). Note, by the way, that that CV provides an e-mail
address for Crowley, which is not the one I mentioned above. Since
I've never yet e-mailed him at any address, I can't say anything
about how promptly he replies.
I should emphasise that I don't own, and haven't read, <Snake's-
Hands>, in either edition, much though I'd like to. Needless to say,
there's no public copy near Seattle. I consulted Sleight's
bibliography, to the extent that I did, via Google Books, which is
willing to show one page per "preview".
<The Deep>, novel, Doubleday 1975, speculative fiction
<The Deep> is a strange beginning for the career that followed it.
Where <Engine Summer> and <Little, Big> (both by 1975 long begun) as
well as _Ægypt_ and <Beasts> (as yet unstarted, I think, though the
*idea* for <Beasts> is much older) are more or less pastoral and more
or less set in America (especially the part we in the US call "the
Northeast"), <The Deep>, a very *short* novel, has as setting a place
somewhat like some mythical takes on the world's structure, a disc of
a world supported by a pillar, around which wraps Leviathan; and
although some of its pages describe the landscape, it can hardly be
called pastoral. (In fact, pretty much the first insightful comment
I saw on <The Deep> compared it to drama.)
Its plot has two strands. It begins with a Visitor, wounded and
amnesiac and utterly unlike any other person on the disc in more than
"his" sexlessness, who knows "him"self made and seeks "his" purpose;
separately, it follows the politics of the disc, Red and Black and
Gray and Just, which seem to echo the Wars of the Roses (or at least,
I gather, Shakespeare's *dramas* of those wars), but to follow a
fated pattern, which the Visitor's arrival deflects into change.
One part of that pattern is the Just, a secret society of assassins.
The Just are the only people on the disc with guns. Each of the
Just has a Gun, and each has a name; and each Gun of the Just has a
name, and each name of the Just has a name. I mention all this
mainly because of a reference later books seem to make, but also
because it's the kind of exoticon Crowley's most exotic work
features.
In print in <Otherwise>, listed below.
<Beasts>, novel, Doubleday 1976, science fiction
Although <Beasts> is probably my least favourite of his novels, it
makes a much more plausible start for Crowley's later career than
does <The Deep>. It's far more pastoral, and its main setting is,
near as I can tell, the northeastern US. (Here "the Northern
Autonomy" in a balkanised US of the 2070s.) Here, differences are
the main theme: sometime prior to the action, several experiments
had resulted in a viable population of lion-men, as well as a sterile
fox-man and an intelligent dog; we get each as POVs. Some human POVs
show the "leos'" effects on some humans (perhaps Crowley's nearest
approach to the 1970s spec-fic obsession with transcendence); other
humans, not POVs, focus mainly on using the leos as Others for
political purposes, with typical bad behaviour resulting. We also
see the education of geese, hawks, and princes. This is Crowley's
nearest approach to an ordinary genre novel, in this case 1970s
mystical science fiction.
For comparison to future works, note that some villains spout the
phrase "holocompetent act-fields", and some other people are
described as "in Blue", without further explanation. One of the
first references to "Blue" suggests that these groups may overlap,
but this is never confirmed, and Crowley later describes the villains
as dressing quite differently.
In print in <Otherwise>, listed below.
"Antiquities", short story, <Whispers> ed Schiff 1977, fantasy
Crowley's first normally acknowledged published story is a bit of a
triviality, a "club story", a tall tale about the "Inconstancy
Plague" of Cheshire and its surprising cause. It is, however,
thoroughly convincing as such - the club, the narrator, and the
plague all well depicted.
This is the earliest of the seven stories in the 1993 collection
<Antiquities>, a title chosen, I'm pretty sure, more for the contrast
with the earlier collection <Novelty> than in honour of this
particular story. The copyright acknowledgements for the collection
<Novelties & Souvenirs> represent exactly these seven stories, only,
as having first been published "in a slightly different version". As
best I recall, I've read none as first published (though I do own
such copies of most), so technically, the versions I've read all have
1993 revision dates.
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>, and in <Tails of Wonder and
Imagination> ed Datlow, as a trade paperback from Night Shade.
"Somewhere to Elsewhere (part of a work in progress)", novel excerpt,
<The Little Magazine> ed Stephens & Thoet 1978, fantastique
Websites had already shown me that this appeared in volume 11,
dated 1977, before I saw a copy myself. So Crowley's CV is wrong in
dating the publication to 1974. The issue is copyright 1978, and the
editorial mentions February as publication date for this nominally
"summer" issue. The UW got its copy a year later, but the copyright
dates form a consistent and plausible chain from volumes 10 to 13
(when they gave up pretending to be a quarterly), so I'm going with
February 1978. No matter what, the 2000 album of this title by the
rock group Kansas (which I haven't heard, though I remain fond of
some of their music) is later.
Given Crowley's later career, and the reputation of "little
magazines", I'd better note that this particular <Little Magazine>,
at this particular time, drew no clear line between literary and
genre writers. This issue's other prose was by "Tom Disch" and
Carol Emshwiller, believe it or not; and the editorial group included
David Hartwell and Ginjer Buchanan. Other writers I recognised,
going through volumes 10-13, include Ursula Le Guin and Rudy Rucker,
not counting the poetry (volume 12 nos 3-4 features poems by a Judith
Moffett and a Wade Wellman, the latter "part of a series"; Disch had
poems in most issues).
Wikipedia asserts that this is the first chapter of <Little, Big>,
whose published first chapter indeed features the phrase "somewhere
to elsewhere" both in its text and in its argument. (I don't know
whether Kansas got the title from <Little, Big> or from here, but,
well, it's pretty obvious which is the likelier bet.) However,
it actually consists of earlier versions of the following text from
book one, "Edgewood": the first paragraph of chapter I; the final
section of chapter I, titled "Junipers"; and all the sections now
in chapter II, in the order they have there. I compared the first
paragraph and "Junipers" to the versions in <Little, Big>, and spot-
checked a couple more sections; the differences are mostly of the
polishing sort, though one sentence in this "Junipers" comes from
elsewhere in the later chapter I. At least two sentences refer to
the missing parts of the later chapter I. Which, by the way, include
all repetitions of the phrase "somewhere to elsewhere", which appears
in this issue of the <Little Magazine> only as a title. It's pretty
clear that something approximating the rest of chapter I already
existed, though not included in this publication.
On first reading, given that I'd just been comparing it to the novel,
I couldn't ignore my foreknowledge at all. On second reading, I was
just able to see how carefully at each step Crowley suggests, but
doesn't insist on, fantasy. This is, of course, similarly true of
the novel's opening, but I've long since lost the ability to ignore
my foreknowledge *there*. This excerpt narrates the preparations for
a wedding, but stops short of the wedding itself, so even without the
backward glances to absent chapter I, it's intrinsically incomplete.
I have no idea what the average reader of the magazine made of it, or
what *you*'ll make of it in the unlikely event that you look at this
before looking at <Little, Big>.
Since both the magazine and the distributor have folded, I'm fairly
sure this is out of print. Unlike the other out of print items
listed in this post, it's pretty easy to find in academic libraries.
Also, the experience of reading the listed sections of <Little, Big>
isn't much different.
"Her Bounty to the Dead", aka "Where Spirits Gat Them Home", short
story, <Shadows> ed Grant 1978, Gothic
In which a New England drive, by a priest and his aunt, ends badly;
in which faith and unbelief face each other. I never remember this
story properly, and so never think I understand it at all. It's
another <Antiquities> story.
For Texas's linkage of it with the unpublished story "Holy Saturday"
see footnotes [8] and [10] below sv <Love & Sleep>.
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>.
<Engine Summer>, novel, Doubleday 1979, science fiction
Nominee, 1980 John W. Campbell Memorial Award
Nominee, 1981 British SF Association Award for Novel
Nominee, 1980 American Book Award for SF Hardcover
Traditionally, a "masterwork" (or "masterpiece") was the work by
which a journeyman in a craft demonstrated mastery. By that
standard, though my old website called <Engine Summer> Crowley's
masterpiece, I suppose it was really <The Deep>, or at latest
<Beasts>.
But <Engine Summer> is certainly his first great novel.
This is the story of Rush that Speaks, a much-traveled teenager from
Palm cord in Little Belaire. Little Belaire is a settlement of
Truthful Speakers sometime probably centuries (rather than decades or
millennia) from now, in North America (and, I suspect, New England).
Rush tells of his boyhood in Belaire and the growth of his love for
Once a Day, until she leaves with the traveling merchants from Dr.
Boots's List; and how, (not many) years later, he too leaves,
questing to become a saint - which, in Little Belaire's terms, means
someone who can "tell all stories in the single story of [his] own
life" - or at least to find Once a Day; and perhaps to fulfill a
prophecy made in Belaire, that he'll live "many lives in the moment
between birth and dying". ("Many Lives" was apparently one working
title, and is the title of the first part. Among the Texas papers is
a draft with another working title, "Learning to Live with It".)
Much of what he learns, at home and still more so as he travels, has
to do with the "angels" who built the dead cities and Road, who
invented "medicine's daughters" and sent out the spaceships, whose
pursuit of Everything They Wanted finally brought them (us) to ruin;
only late in the book does he learn what Everything They Wanted
really meant. In the meantime his home and his experiences provide
the only other concentrated supply of the exotic, besides <The Deep>,
that Crowley has published to date.
Does summer ever end? Does summer ever come? I can't imagine coming
to this novel in middle age; I came to it younger than its narrator
[5], it's the work by Crowley that I've read the most times (ten or
so), and his depiction of human North America in its Indian summer
became part of my own understanding of the world. To that extent,
both Rush and Crowley succeeded in their quests, and I must fail in
mine, for ultimately I probably can't put into words what I find
great in this book.
In print in <Otherwise>. Scheduled to appear in the "SF Masterworks"
series 10 January 2013.
[5] Yes, strictly speaking, <Engine Summer> is in dialogue form,
and has no narrator. But considering that Rush, who speaks far more
than his interlocutor, does very little *but* narrate, I don't think
it's unreasonable to call him a narrator anyway.
??? [?, length ?, <Intermountain Express> ed ? 1979, genre ?]
The Texas "finding aid" lists, again in the last, little-annotated,
box, two copies of the August 24, 1979 issue of <Intermountain
Express>. I'm pretty sure this is a newspaper that published for
just under a year from Hillsdale, NY. August 24 was a Friday, as
were the start and end dates, so it was probably a weekly. Hillsdale
is very near the NY-MA state line, and some western MA towns I know
Crowley to have lived in around this time. Libraries I know to have
copies of issues of this newspaper are the New York State Library
(whose run ends in June 1979), Texas (as indicated), and Columbia-
Greene Community College's, of Hudson, NY, which like the center in
Texas is closed through today; I plan to call them tomorrow and see
what they can tell me. As with <National Peep>, these copies'
presence in this box could (but need not) mean Crowley had something
in that issue, but in this case there's no obvious reason to assume
that, if so, the work in question was fiction.
The newspaper went out of business a couple of months later; I'm
quite confident this issue is out of print.
"The Single Excursion of Caspar Last", short story, <Gallery> ed
Shapiro [6] 1979, science fiction
By <Gallery> I do mean the men's magazine. Since libraries don't
store this sort of magazine, and used bookstores don't buy such
obscure ones, I lack access to a copy, whether I'd only read it for
the articles or not. A magazine dealer's website provides the full
table of contents, complete with blurbs, and yes, the December 1979
issue is unequivocally the right one, contra Crowley's CV.
OK, so I haven't read this. I have, however, read <Great Work of
Time>, for which see below. And one of the problems I've always had
with <Great Work of Time> is solved by this story's existence (of
which I hadn't known until recently): it's all told from the POV of
Denys Winterset, except the bulk of the first section, which is in
Caspar Last's. The two POVs have very different tones, too: Last
sounds precise with just a touch of ebullience, Winterset almost
mournfully elegiac. So even though <Great Work> contains, in its
*third* section, an ironic ending to Last's story, I find perfectly
plausible Sleight's comment on this story: "Reprinted, with minor
revisions, as the first section of" <Great Work>.
The story itself? Well, just as "Antiquities" is a club story, but a
club story as written by Crowley, this here is an adventurous jape -
Yet Another Variation on how to make lots of money with time travel,
without creating temporal mayhem - but an adventurous jape ... as
written by Crowley. It's pretty fun, which is part of why it so
poorly introduces the darker novella it's been incorporated into.
(Yes, I know, all other human beings disagree with me on this, and
consider <Great Work> the best thing Crowley's ever written. Fine,
but this is me posting, and you have every right to reply as *you*
wish. I'm just happy to have, at long last, an explanation for a
sizeable part of my problem with the novella.)
Not, as far as I know, in print as such, though the experience of
reading the described section of <Great Work of Time> presumably
isn't too different (and is, of course, what I described above).
[6] Shapiro's name is what I needed research assistance from the UW
to find. This was stupid of me, since the same web page that shows
the table of contents also shows the masthead, but anyway.
Crowley's blog includes a post in memory of Bob Guccione, who did
publish "Snow", probably his most famous short work; in that post he
remembers this story as also going to Guccione, but not so: Nils
Shapiro was both editor and publisher. This post on Guccione drew an
... interesting set of comments; a fair number that were more or less
what you might expect, mostly by men, and two by Ellen Datlow and
Elizabeth Hand that very professionally ignored all those guys to
focus on Guccione as buyer of fiction and/or employer.
"The Reason for the Visit", short story, <Interfaces> ed Le Guin &
Kidd 1980, fable
I see this, the third <Antiquities> story, as a turning point in
Crowley's career. He had written three more or less science
fictional novels, and stories for several markets in several manners.
But in this, whose narrator has met Max Beerbohm and Samuel Johnson
with some aplomb but finds in a visit from Virginia Woolf more food
for thought, he now appears to have asserted his subsequent métier,
to work with history.
I don't want to spoil what there is to this story, so I'll illustrate
instead with a striking anecdote told in _Ægypt_ (<Dæmonomania>,
"Uxor", chapter 13) by a character whose similarities to Crowley I'll
discuss below. Dr. Johnson's line, a second marriage is "the triumph
of hope over experience", is well known. But in Dr. Johnson's time,
second marriages rarely followed divorces; "experience" referred not
to discord, but to death. This - establishing just how something old
makes sense that either doesn't make sense now, or worse, makes it
wrongly - is just the kind of work with history this story announces
Crowley's intent to do; and of course the publication of this
anecdote represents his actually doing it.
(That said, turns out Crowley's character isn't 100% reliable as a
historian - nor, as we've already seen with his CV, is Crowley. The
actual source is a short paragraph midway through some disjointed
recollections which Boswell ascribes to Dr. William Maxwell: "A
gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, married immediately
after his wife died: Johnson said, it was the triumph of hope over
experience." Isn't this much nearer the modern meaning?)
In print in <Novelties & Souvenirs>.