The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories and Other Stories, by Gene Wolfe ***1/4

This short story collection is really just that - a collection of unrelated stories, all penned by Wolfe at different times throughout the 1970s. There is no cohesiveness to this collection, which is its one and only major downfall, because most of the stories are very good, including a couple of real masterpieces. Fortunately, many of the stories are quite long, with at least five that might qualify as novellas, and these longer stories are the best. Tracking Song, the title story and its counterparts, The Death of Doctor Island and The Doctor of Death Island, are all good and all lengthy, as are Alien Stones and Seven American Nights. Eyeflash Miracles was a bit odd but generally good, but I wasn't especially fond of Hour of Trust. Of the shorter stories, The Hero as Werwolf and Feather Tigers were my favorites, but not the only brief stories of value. There are a couple of semi-throwaway stories here, but they're so short that it doesn't really matter. In all, a very good read, but I quickly realized that as a general rule I prefer short story collections that reside primarily in a single world or deal with some of the same characters, issues, etc.

That said, I was truly blown away by Tracking Song, which stands right alongside the best of Wolfe's work - so imaginative, unpredictable, and beautifully written. Thinking about that story (now several weeks removed from its reading) immediately brings back the sense of desolation and struggle Wolfe creates in it. Wow is it fantastic. Two of the three title stories are similarly great, with a few others including Seven American Nights and The Hero as Werwolf only slightly behind. In some stories, Wolfe uses slightly askew narrative structure, revealing again his abilities to couch meaning within meaning, as I've discussed in the reviews of Latro in the Mist, Peace, and Book of the New Sun. A great book for fans of Wolfe or fans of imaginative short stories.

Quotes:
Opening quote from book, pg. 11, from The Island of Doctor Death and Other Stories: "Winter comes to water as well as land, though there are no leaves to fall. The waves that were a bright, hard blue yesterday under a fading sky today are green, opaque, and cold. If you are a boy not wanted in the house you walk the beach for hours, feeling the winter that has come in the night; sand blowing across your shoes, spray wetting the legs of your corduroys. You turn your back to the sea, and with the sharp end of a stick found half buried write in the wet sand Tackman Babcock."
(Winter 2004)

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