The Darkling, by David Kesterton: **7/8

I arrived at my decision to read this book in old-school fashion - the checking out of the cover and reading of sample pages that used to be my staples in the pre-internet days. I'm realizing that although the net has been a great tool for discovering new writers, it's also kept me from some books as well, because if I can't find enough info on something I usually don't take the leap. It probably would have kept me from this one as well if not for the particular circumstances. In this case, I was in Madison at a used bookstore that was going out of business. They ran a serious sale that encouraged book buying both because of the large discount and because of the increasing discount percentage that depended on the quantity of books purchased. So I found myself checking out this gorgeous hardback by an author I'd never heard of partially because I could buy it for $4. Of course money isn't really the object considering the time invested in reading, but I still like a good deal. The book was published by Arkham House in the early 80s, contained a clearly literate style and text, and seemed somewhat Wolfeian overall, so I bought it, figuring I'd better not let the book slip away at that price, plus I wasn't sure I'd even be back to the store before it went under altogether. When I got home, I couldn't find a single review of it online anywhere - nothing on amazon, nothing on sci-fi sites, nothing. That made me a bit nervous, but at the same time I was kind of excited by the prospect of maybe "discovering" a lost treasure.

Ultimately, I enjoyed it, as the rating makes clear, but I can see how it didn't quite register on the radar of the larger sci-fantasy community, because it's a strange blend of simplistic and literate. I feel a kinship between it and my band Wombatt, in a way, because we're both straightforward and weird all in one, and it seems thus far that we haven't found a specific audience despite the quality of the material. In the case of The Darkling, the story borrows elements of the classic everyboy tale that seem way beneath the caliber of the writing and wraps them in a, quite-Wolfeian as it turns out, world of bizarre creatures and distant-future-come-primitive culture. One specific setting reminded me so much of the main idea behind Wolfe's Tracking Song that I was quite a bit put off. And the book to that point (about 1/3 of the way through) focuses a bit more on the simplistic stuff that doesn't seem to fit the writing style. Once the book progresses beyond that section (in an abandoned city), it steps up the quality, which is why the overall rating is quite high. Kesterton works towards some cool concepts, creates a vivid world about which I ultimately enjoyed reading quite a bit. (Another spot reminded me of an episode in Raymond E. Fiest's Magician, but both books were published in the same year, so I can't get upset at either of them for that.)
(Fall 2004)


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