Title: Elegy Beach

Author: Steven R. Boyett

Genre: Fanatsy, Post-Apocalypse, Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Ace
Publication Date: November 2009
Hardcover: 384 Pages

Stand alone or series: Sequel to Ariel (1983)

How did I get this book: Review Copy from Publisher

Why did I read this book: I read and really enjoyed author Steven Boyett’s first novel, Ariel, which was recently redistributed in preparation for the long-awaited release of Elegy Beach. These books blend two of my favoritest things: the apocalypse, and high fantasy. How could I resist? I eagerly jumped at the opportunity to read and review Elegy Beach.

Summary: (from barnesandnoble.com)
Thirty years ago the lights went out, the airplanes fell, the cars went still, the cities all went dark. The laws humanity had always known were replaced by new laws that could only be called magic. The world has changed forever. Or has it?

In a small community on the California coast are Fred Garey and his friend Yan, both born after the Change. Yan dreams of doing something so big his name will live on forever. He thinks he’s found it-a way to reverse the Change. But Fred fears the repercussions of such drastic, irreversible steps.

Review:

First, a caveat: this review contains mild spoilers for the novel, as it is impossible to really discuss the book without divulging these plot points. If you have not read Ariel, or if you wish to go into Elegy Beach completely fresh and unspoiled, you have been warned.

Elegy Beach begins in the Changed world, years after the events of Ariel. Decades after the fateful afternoon when the laws of the universe shifted, technology stopped working, and mythical creatures emerged to roam the streets, a teenage boy named Fred Garey works as a casting apprentice in the small, coastal town of Del Mar. Bored with the monotony of conjuring avatars of pretty unicorns for customers, Fred yearns to learn more powerful and complex magic from his master, Paypay – for Fred and his best friend Yan have a goal to understand all magic in the world, in a way that has never been done before. When Fred and Yan open the proverbial can of worms as they devise a way to mass produce spells and unlock a magical impossibility, Yan’s ambition and vision leads the two friends on diverging paths. Yan leaves Del Mar with a vision that means the end of the Changed world, and in his insatiable desire for magical knowledge, he sets events in motion that bring old friends together once more. Ariel and Pete reunite, and they set out on one last dangerous road together – this time with young Fred and Yan’s father, as they race to stop Yan’s ultimate show of power.

It’s impossible to think about Elegy Beach without comparing it to Ariel – and in fact, these novels are so closely tied, it would be wrong not to discuss them together. As its title suggests, Elegy Beach is a moving tale, tinged throughout with the profound sadness of change, an elegiac ode to moving on. When I began this book, I had no real idea of what to expect. I had read and enjoyed Ariel, but I thought that Elegy Beach would be more of a loose novel set in the same world. Imagine my surprise then, as I read the book only to discover that it was a direct sequel. Though narrated through the pen of young Fred Garey, just as Ariel was told through his father Pete’s written words, Elegy Beach is more the end of Pete and Ariel’s tale than it is Fred’s. As Mr. Boyett mentions in the afterword to this novel, at times it felt that Fred was an observer to his own book, watching and documenting the final chapter in Pete and Ariel’s story together. This is not a bad thing, though, as long time fans of Ariel will be happy to see the reunion of these two old friends, and new fans begin to connect with a new generation of the post-apocalyptic world with Fred Garey.

The writing style of Mr. Boyett’s second novel of the Change is markedly different from that of Ariel, though structurally the books are similar in concept. Both begin simply but become more complex as their stories continue, eventually becoming road quests on the path to dramatic, ultimate showdowns – and of course, following the showdowns, there are the inevitable consequences of decisions each character has made. Though the format may be similar, it is clear that the author writing Elegy Beach is an older, more seasoned one than that of Ariel. This comes across in the elegance of the descriptions of the changed world, the more tangible understanding of the laws of the Change, but most importantly in the narrative voice of the novel. Fred’s style is far rougher than his father’s in Ariel. Elegy Beach is written in a series of staccato-like sentences, as Fred hardly uses question marks or other inflection, selectively hyphenating (or not hyphenating) certain words, and phonetically spelling out certain abbreviations he cannot have any real understanding of (i.e. “Pee Em” for “P.M.”). The concept underlying this new narrative style is fascinating, but also is a bit of a gamble on Mr. Boyett’s part, as Fred’s voice is initially hard to get used to and new readers unfamiliar with the mythology of the novels may be turned off by this intentionally difficult style. As for me, I loved it. Though initially hard to get used to, the style is beautifully conceived as one of the main underlying themes of Ariel is the generational difference between those alive before the change, and those born after it like Fred and Yan, inheriting the new world. Fred, a teenager who has no concept of Beethoven, of the Apollo missions, of electricity or formal schooling would write in a manner completely different, even alien to our modern eyes – whereas Pete’s written narrative in Ariel was more simplistic, direct and comfortably familiar.

Fred’s characterization as a narrator was wholly genuine, down to his punctuation – and these strong characterizations are some of Elegy Beach’s greatest assets. As a narrator, Fred is observant but frustratingly unreliable at times, as he does not tell us everything we want to know, or taking a long, roundabout way to get to those answers. It’s infuriating, but again genuine and in keeping with Fred’s character. And of course, there’s Pete Garey – this version of Pete is a far cry from the innocent, thickly naive young man from Ariel. Life has tested Pete harshly, and his “great adventure” has long since been completed. We do not know everything that has happened in the decades between the end of Ariel and Elegy Beach for much of this second novel, only seeing a bitter, tired man aged beyond his forty-odd years through the eyes of his uncomprehending son. Those missing years of Pete’s story are gradually revealed, and it’s another profoundly moving, hard path that has shaped Pete’s adult life. Mr. Boyett takes a little traveled road with Elegy Beach, answering the question of what happens to a hero once his grand adventure is over – because they cannot go home again, and Pete and Ariel are proof of that.

The other characters, are similarly well-defined through Fred’s eyes, from Yan’s father, the good Doctor Ramchandani to a young straggler girl they encounter on the road. The only character I wish I could have known better was Yan himself, the Magneto to Fred’s Xavier. Even with Yan, though, readers understand his motivations and desires – I only (selfishly) wish that more time was spent developing the growing differences between Yan and Fred.

In terms of world-building and setting, Elegy Beach also is more complex than its predecessor, changing certain aspects from the Ariel mythos. There’s a time jump that’s quickly apparent concerning the era of the Change. As Ariel was initially written in the 1980s, the Change in that novel accordingly reflected ’80s technology. In Elegy Beach, however, the time of the Change has shifted to present day (as there is reference from the pre-Changers of cell phones and iPods). Though this was a little confusing, I believe this was a conscious decision by the author, to make the Change applicable to a new generation. Personally, I didn’t mind this revisionist interpretation of the Change, and I liked the attempt to make sense of the universe created in Ariel with new, hard rules – older devotees, however, might not. There’s a total re-interpretation of “magic” in this novel as well, which I found fascinating. Magic is described as a language, interpreted in a software/computer-literate manner, and the ideas of magical “stasis” and spells that work like programming macros were bizarre, but oddly effective visualizations. I wish there was a bit more about the rules of magic in this novel and Fred’s efforts at codification and implementation of those rules…but I suspect that’s an adventure for a future book.

On a less analytical note and a more emotional level, Elegy Beach simply works. It’s an older, smarter, more viscerally evocative novel. Author Steven Boyett and protagonist Pete have come a very long way from where this journey began in a lake, when a young man spied a unicorn with a broken leg. And Elegy Beach FELT like it began one way but ended in a completely different, unexpected direction – to Fred, to Pete, and to the author himself. Ariel may have lacked denouement, but Elegy Beach doesn’t – it has the emotional release that the story requires, not rushing through the hard, cruel bits at the end. It’s a cautionary post-apocalyptic tale in some respects (as it has been marketed), but it’s more a story about growing up, putting the past to rest, and letting go. As Ariel might say, everyone is betrayed and yeah, it isn’t fair – but any fairness is a gift. There is humor in this book at times, but some readers may understandably be put off by the lack of whimsy and naive lightheartedness that was more present in Ariel and is not-so present in Elegy Beach. As for me, I chalk the quieter humor up to hard living in a hard, changed world, and I thought Elegy Beach was all the better for its grittiness. The best post-apocalypse novels are tinged with sadness, and such is the case with this profoundly moving novel.

I want more. I want Fred’s story, because this is just the beginning for him. I can only hope that Mr. Boyett returns to the new Changed world once more.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

The last thing in this world I wanted to see was another damned unicorn. They were the big deal for schoolgirls in Del Mar this year. Gaggles of them came into Paypay’s shop wanting their vewwy own unicorn that would wait for them outside Miss Cowardan’s school with tail swishing to walk them home. Some women wanted one in the living room like some sort of knick knack. They could have one too, for a half a pound of coffee, a couple ounces of chocolate, a jar of decent homebrew, or whatever else Paypay was trading for this week.

It seemed pretty hollow to me. Maybe unicorns had been common as cock-roaches back in the days just after the Change, but clearly they’d long since left for greener and more hospitable pastures. If we were what they had to rub elbows with, who could blame them.

Older ladies always moaned about this while I made the charm in Paypay’s shop. Poor widdle unicorns, them all go bye bye, how sad, could you make it shinier, please? I smiled and nodded. They were customers.

Today it was Mrs. Gloster who wanted her unicorn shinier. “I just like having them around the place,” she said. “They make things feel so warm and friendly.” She smiled at me. “Inviting.”

Mrs. Gloster was a regular, went through about a unicorn a week—pretty good deal for Paypay, considering their trade value and the fact that they only last a couple of days. I smiled and nodded and uncapped the potion thermos. I’d taken to mixing up the unicorn potions in big batches first thing in the morning and pouring doses into thermoses. It saved a lot of time. Paypay was oldschool and hadn’t thought of this. He did castings without wondering how they worked or why, or figuring out ways to make the whole messy process more efficient. I wish I’d thought of the thermos trick last year when everyone had wanted lawn gorgons. I wondered if Mrs. Gloster would be as happy to trade dear for her shiny unicorns if she knew I brewed them from ready mix.

“My guests just love them,” Mrs. Gloster was singing on. “Your work is so accomplished, Fred.”

“Well, I’m glad you like them.” I lit the camp stove. Propane was one of the items we traded for. More Paypay logic: trade castings for items you use to make castings that you trade for. How do you get ahead that way?

I held up a finger for her to be quiet and turned to recite the charm. Paypay liked castings to be dramatic and in full view of the customer. “Customer think magic belong on stage, you know? In movie. Make exciting. Make big.”

Whatever; I’d never seen a movie. And it was hard to act excited when I’d recited the unicorn charm so many times that I once woke myself up saying it in my sleep. But Paypay was my boss, so when he was around I did the whole bit, raised arms and flourishes and dramatic voice.

But he wasn’t around now. I cracked my knuckles and made the passes over the cauldron—really just a saucepan on a rusty old campstove—and recited the charm. Just because I said it ten times a day didn’t mean that I couldn’t still mess up, and when castings go wrong they tend to go memorably wrong. My first unicorn charms had been these horrible lopsided skinless popeyed mutant horselike things that had gimped around the back of the shop braying and falling down a lot for two days before fading out. Well if casting were easy every-body’d do it.

The door jangled as another customer came in while I was reciting the charm. I’d asked Paypay could he please lose that damned bell—it could throw you off at a crucial moment, and it seemed to jangle only at crucial moments. Paypay’d just shrugged and said, “You get used. Concentrate is good.”
The eidolon unicorn was taking shape in front of me. Mrs. Gloster liked her unicorns small and shiny, golden horned and glossy—more like ceramic ornaments. I’d learned to leave some things out so she could make helpful suggestions and feel she’d contributed a creative hand. Everyone’s an artist if they only had the time. Well what was the harm.

This week’s unicorn was “a cute little one for the upstairs.” I made it doe-sized and made the head too big for the body and the eyes too big for the head and gave it thick black lashes. Mrs. Gloster asked could I make it shinier. I added faint blue to the coat to give it more glow indoors and made the tail fluffier and backed off on the eyes and lashes. You’ve got to have some standards.

You can read the full chapter online, along with Chapter 2 & Chapter 13 at the book website.

Rating: 8 – Excellent

Reading Next: Unclean Spirits by M.L.N. Hanover

GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

Courtesy of Ace and author Steven Boyett, we are offering TWO prize packs, which each include an autographed copy of Elegy Beach, along with bookmarks, book fliers, and a signed copy of author Steven Boyett’s live DJ set from WorldCon. To enter, leave a comment here answering the following question: If YOU had to survive the end of the world, what would your “apocalypse of choice” be? Answers include but are not limited to alien invaders, the zombie plague, global warming, asteroid impact, The Change (as in Ariel & Elegy Beach), etc…

The contest is open to residents of the US and Canada, and will run until Saturday November 7th at 11:59pm (Pacific). Good luck!

Steven R. Boyett is a multi-tasking guy – in addition to being the author of the cult classic, post-apocalyptic fantasy novel Ariel, he’s also a renowned DJ, and produces three ridiculously successful music podcasts. Oh, and he also has a new book out this month, the highly anticipated sequel to Ariel, twenty-six years in the making, Elegy Beach. We read and loved Ariel, and so when we were presented with the opportunity to review Elegy Beach and interview the author, we were thrilled.

Ladies and Gents, please give it up for the talented Steven Boyett!

The Book Smugglers: First and foremost, thanks for taking the time to “chat” with us!

Steven: Almost all of the afterword to Elegy Beach concerns this very thing. The (relatively) short version is that I didn’t really decide to write it so much as it decided to be written. I never had any intention of writing a sequel and have said so for decades, quite publicly (including in Ariel’s afterword – oopsy). For a few years I’d had a notion of magic as a kind of operating system, a code set to which the universe would respond. I called it spellware. It was a cool idea but just that, not a story. Then one day I realized that spellware fit perfectly into the Ariel milieu, to the extent that it offered an explanation for it. Something in me had some things it wanted to say (some of it to the rest of me, which is always an interesting surprise), and so I set down to work on the book over my own objections, really. The writer in me wrote it while the rest of me enabled him and kept a watchful eye on the guy.

As for what people can expect from Elegy Beach, since it’s a Boyett book you can expect a road trip and a story that uses genre conventions but refuses to adhere to them. I’d like to think that they can expect a more mature version of this approach to fantasy, and to fiction in general, from someone who is more mature in his craft and in his life. And if they don’t think so, then they’re just big stinky doo doo heads.

The Book Smugglers: Ariel’s title character is, of all things, a unicorn. And, as unicorns are often reduced to “girly” stereotypes (magical ponies with horns that live on sunshine and rainbows, or what have you) it had to take some guts to write your first novel with a talking unicorn for a protagonist – especially considering your largely male (adolescent) target audience. So, why did you choose to write about a unicorn? Did you do any mythological research about unicorns for the book? Do you have any favorite or recommended unicorn novels (or rather, books with unicorns in them)?

Steven: Science fiction and fantasy are chock full of tropes worn so smooth by overuse that nothing will stick to them any more. Even at 19 I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to utilize them for any reason other than to subvert them. Do we seriously need another quest story about humanoids who set out in a bunch to destroy/recover/trigger some talisman? Fiction at that point is nothing more than a Mad Lib. Hemingway wrote that “What a writer in our time has to do is write what hasn’t been written before or beat dead men at what they have done.” The ample evidence contained in bookstores demonstrates that apparently this isn’t easily done, which frankly boggles me. It’s the difference between talent and creativity

To my view (boy is this gonna go over well) the mere and continual reenactment of stories and iconography that have all occurred before, the mere and constant reshuffling of the deck of tropes, is just a kind of pornography. It exists to placate, it serves as an engine of distraction. What endeavors to break from that, or even only to recontextualize it, as Star Wars did, is memorable. What elects not to pander or be safe is memorable. I am not remotely impugning people who do are able to feed their dog and put gas in their car by virtue of the power of their imagination. It’s a great good thing and a lot of hard debilitating work. But the need to buy groceries becomes itself a pressure not to take chances, because by definition the new is hardly ever met with recognition. I have no desire to be another snowflake in that avalanche. I would rather not be able to buy groceries, and often I did not.

I don’t believe in unicorns and I need convincing. My hardwired approach is that readers are of the same view. (Readers who are predisposed to believe in unicorns don’t represent much challenge at all, do they?) I sure as hell don’t believe in talking unicorns. So I’m more inclined to go fo rit if the unicorn has to have a foul mouth and be a smartass who constantly messes with people’s perceptions of it as a fwuffy magic bunny thingy. Then you’re commenting on the idea of unicorn itself. You’re pulling off a magic trick: by calling attention to what the unicorn says and how the unicorn says it you’ve completely distracted the reader from the fact that the unicorn is saying at all. You’re carving your name on that wellworn trope. You’re winning over the cynics and not preaching to the choir. Hallefrigginlujah. To me the most obvious and natural reaction to seeing a talking horse would be Holy shit a talking horse! But how often do we see that happen? It’s as if the writer fears the illusion will break down if it’s pointed out. But in fact the illusion is fortified by concrete detail.

I did do some research on history and depictions of unicorns in history (I can recommend Odell Shepherd’s The Lore of the Unicorn as a great reference), but regarding unicorns themselves I have absolutely no interest in them and no unicorn bibliography. I care about characters and good plotting and admirable prose. I’ll read about washing dishes if it’s beautifully done. To read a book because it’s got a unicorn in it seems to me to (if you’ll forgive me) put the cart before the horse. Anyone who knows me (and it’s not hard to infer from my curmudgeonly tone in the above) knows that the last thing in the world you’d think I’d write about would be unicorns. And they’re right! The only reason to do it is to pee in the pool! Make it yours! No one will hurt you. Readers will be pissed and critics will ding you, but in the long run it will be a singular creation and not another item in a long run excreted by some factory. I’d rather take a chance and fail than be safe and succeed.

I didn’t really choose to write about a unicorn; it chose me. I had a vivid image of a young man and a unicorn walking along an abandoned interstate, and the contrast and mystery of that image were powerful enough to set me on my way. I think that image drives the novel. I hd no target audience of adolescent males; I pretty much was an adolescent male when I wrote the book. In that sense it’s probably true to say that Ariel did not adhere to the traditional girly-girl meets fwuffy unicorn cliche not because of some great bravura step-outside-the-box auteur approach but because I was a 19-year-old kid who didn’t know any better.

The Book Smugglers: Ariel blends elements of post-apocalyptic fiction with traditional fantasy. What inspired you to mix these two genres?

Steven: I don’t think it was a conscious decision, really. I actually grew up reading more science fiction than fantasy, and (to be a bit reductionist here) I think I take a more SF approach to fantasy. A lot of fantasy has a fairy-tale mindset that we’re all just going to suspend our disbelief and go with whatever gets thrown our way, an approach that lets Harry Potter pull a rabbit out of his ass every time he’s cornered. I need more interior logic than that. My impossible things need some foundation. Ultimately this has to break down, because when pushed for ultimately possible explanations, really in fantasy it won’t be there. Thus the designation fantasy. In an ironic way it’s a kind of failure of imagination on my part: I can’t just make something up and be done with it; it’s got to be anchored by something I can work with. Oddly enough it’s the contrast that makes it work. Ariel set in some magic happy elfie land would be perfectly forgettable. It’s been done a thousand times and there was no need to make it a thousand and one. But setting a flat-out quest-type fantasy in our own world is interesting to me. It adds a lot of texture, and lets you comment on the purposes of fantasy itself. I’m all meta like that.

The Book Smugglers: What are your favorite (post-)apocalyptic/dystopian and fantasy novels?

Steven: Dhalgren, by Samuel R. Delany. The Road, by Cormac McCarthy. The Stand (original version), by Stephen King. On the Beach, by Neville Shute. I Am Legend, by Richard Matheson. Emergence, by David Palmer. I’m sure there are a bunch more, but those stand out for me. Some of the books regarded as classics in the field are missing here because they bored me to tears. I’ll be nice and not name names.

The Book Smugglers: Ariel has been blessed by the Gorgeous Cover Gods – all three cover images are fantastic, as is the cover for the upcoming Elegy Beach. Which one is your favorite?

Steven: I’ve definitely been lucky, haven’t I? I’m told it’s easy to illustrate my work because I’m a very visual writer, so maybe that’s helped, but I certainly can’t take credit for these astonishingly good covers. I don’t have a favorite because I really do love all three. I own the original Barclay Shaw painting for the first cover. People tell me it’s dated now (without seeming to realize that the new cover will be dated 30 years from now as well), and certainly the fashion and more airbrushed look reflect the period. But I simply love the characters he presents here. They look like my characters to me (weirdly enough, at the time friends assumed Barclay had used a photo of me for Pete because the depiction looked a lot like me, but it was just another of the many wonderful coincidences that populate my life).

The Rob Alexander cover for the original Scorpius e-book version captures the novel’s mood perfectly, I think. He understands the poetry of decay and manages to make the unicorn a contrast to it and yet part of it at the same time. In the Shaw and Alexander paintings I also think it was probably difficult to paint a unicorn without being sappy or clichéd.

The more recent Steve Stone cover is a perfect representation of the novel’s approach. There is no unicorn at all (there’s no human on the Rob Alexander cover). Everything in it screams postapocalypse. But then there’s that katana in the character’s hand to lend it a kind of videogame aspect. It’s hard-edged, concrete, detailed, gritty. It would be difficult nowadays to put a unicorn on the cover and still convey the fact that Ariel is a very concretely written novel. It would stand a good chance of scaring away the very audience that might like it, whereas elfie stuffed-animal unicorn bunny lovers would read it and say What the living hell is this? Ace’s marketing people were very canny about this, I think, and they have my undying admiration and gratitude for reading the book (itself a miracle, really) and understanding how best to represent it.

Ditto Elegy Beach. It just feels like the book to me. Steve Stone did a wonderful job.

The Book Smugglers: World-wide nuclear war breaks out; aliens invade from outer space; zombies awaken with an insatiable hunger for human flesh; a deadly virus sweeps the globe; a hellbent comet crashes into the earth; the laws of Newtonian physics fail and magic rules. What’s the disaster scenario you would choose to live through?

Steven: Gotta go with the Change on this one. No stinky bodies to clean up, no zombies to fight, no megatsunamis to surf. In fact I think that’s probably why the Change exists as a background: I didn’t want to get bogged down in the why of it and in the details of the disaster’s process; I wanted to deal with what followed. I’m fascinated by what happens to groups when the rules are removed, from massive power failures to The Lord of the Flies to Burning Man. I just wanted it to have already happened and be largely inexplicable; now let’s move on, thank you, drive through.

Cormac McCarthy gets dinged by SF readers for not explaining what happened to the world in The Road. I think that’s a laughably irrelevant thing to ask of him. It’s not about the thing, it’s about what happened to people after the thing. A science fiction writer would have brought in a guy with broken Buddy Holly glasses and a shredded white coat crawling around the ruins and muttering something about how sorry he is for being part of the hadron collider experiment, if only he’d known. And it would just sit there in that book steaming like the pile it would be. I think SF self ghettoizes in this way: it becomes about the explanations.

The Book Smugglers: In addition to being a bestselling author, you also are a DJ and (according to your biography) a didgeridoo player. Why did you turn to music from writing? And how the heck did you get interested in the didgeridoo?

Steven: This is part of that myth that seems to manifest, that you’re either one or the other. I’m a DJ and podcaster for a living and a writer for a living. I’m both. Two full-time careers in one full-time life. I could give up one and make a living solely from the other. But why do that? This is so damned fun. Challenging, time-consuming, frustrating, Type A fun. But fun nonetheless.

Having said that: I did actually quit writing for about four or five years. It’d take too long to explain why, though I touch on it in the Elegy Beach afterword. Suffice to say the universe didn’t seem to want me to write, and I know better than to argue with the universe. But I had only ever been a writer (well, and for 25 years a martial artist), and had no idea what to do with myself when I stopped. What to call myself.

I taught myself to play the didgeridoo because I’d always loved the sound of the instrument, and also because it was something that I couldn’t exploit. I’ve never known how to create something without then taking a lot of effort to put it out there in the world. The didgeridoo is a hollow log. I wasn’t gonna get hot chicks, have a world tour, pay my rent, or fret over royalties because I played it. I had no expectation regarding it. In that way it was pure: I was simply doing it because I liked it.

But being me I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I’d become obsessed with electronic dance music, and I wanted to record didge over it. That’s been done a bunch by now but at the time I’d never heard it. So (being me) I started composing electronic dance music, and learned about audio production and mixing and digital recording systems and a ridiculous amount of stuff. DJ culture is very tied in to this, and I became interested in learning how DJ’s stitch together these electronic pieces, so I learned how to DJ. I put up two music podcasts, and immediately one of them (Podrunner) was featured on iTunes and has been one of the world’s most popular podcasts ever since. It has set me on a great adventure, doing things I never otherwise would have experienced. Playing in a tower in front of a stage surrounded by sound-activated flame cannons at Burning Man. Playing the Hard Rock in Vegas. I mean, jeez.

I’d actually started Elegy Beach when Podrunner hit, and the novel got derailed for three years while I learned an entirely new career. So yet again here I am not knowing how to leave something the hell alone. I mean, my luck is ridiculous – it’s the product of a lot of work and careful consideration and timing but it’s luck nonetheless and I certainly don’t take it for granted.

But what I learned by learning to play the didgeridoo (there’s video of me playing at the end of this long talk at http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/963796) is that I really can do things for the fun of it and approach them without expectation. Where it all went after that is a horribly lucky ironic joke, really.

The Book Smugglers: Aaargh! The Change has come, but by virtue of some strange magic you are able to save ONE book, ONE movie and ONE song. Quick! What are they?

Steven: Dhalgren, simply for its complexity, narrative scope, density, and ability to yield more treasure on every reading.

Toto the Hero, by Jaco van Dormael, my favorite movie. Good luck finding this in the U.S.

Ninth Symphony, Beethoven, if I can be allowed to count it as a song. Otherwise the thought of listening to my one favorite song over and over strikes me as some horrible fate. But if I can’t count the Ninth, then “Solsbury Hill,” by Peter Gabriel. How’s that for eclectic.

As owner of Sneaker Press Boyett published poetry chapbooks by Carrie Etter and the late Nancy Lambert. He has also been a martial-arts instructor, paper marbler, advertising copywriter, editor, typesetter, and proofreader. He designs websites, plays the didgeridoo, and composes electronic music. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife, composer Maureen Halderson, and their two parrots.

A huge THANK YOU to Steven for taking the time to chat with us! You can read more about Steven online at his website, blog, and official sites for Ariel and Elegy Beach.

Make sure to stick around, as tomorrow we review Steven’s long awaited sequel, Elegy Beach, with a giveaway opportunity!

In anticipation for the release of the long awaited Elegy Beach, Steven Boyett’s much loved fantasy-post-apocalyptic tale Ariel has been re-released. And, after reading and enjoying Ariel, we’ve decided to hold a giveaway!

More About the Book:

At four-thirty one Saturday afternoon the laws of physics as we know them underwent a change. Electronic devices, cars, industries stopped. The lights went out. Any technology more complicated than a lever or pulley simply wouldn’t work. A new set of rules took its place—laws that could only be called magic. Ninety-nine percent of humanity has simply vanished. Cities lie abandoned. Supernatural creatures wander the silenced achievements of a halted civilization.

Pete Garey has survived the Change and its ensuing chaos. He wanders the southeastern United States, scavenging, lying low. Learning. One day he makes an unexpected friend: a smartassed unicorn with serious attitude. Pete names her Ariel and teaches her how to talk, how to read, and how to survive in a world in which a unicorn horn has become a highly prized commodity.

When they learn that there is a price quite literally on Ariel’s head, the two unlikely companions set out from Atlanta to Manhattan to confront the sorcerer who wants her horn. And so begins a haunting, epic, and surprisingly funny journey through the remnants of a halted civilization in a desolated world.

Book Website (including chapter excerpts, audio excerpts, interactive maps, forums, and author info): www.arielbook.com

About the Author:

Steven R. Boyett has written novels, short stories, comic books, feature films, essays, and reviews. As a DJ he has played clubs in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Las Vegas, and Reno, as well as at Burning Man. He produces three of the world’s most popular music podcasts (Podrunner, Podrunner: Intervals, and Groovelectric), and was among the first people to make a living in that medium.

As owner of Sneaker Press Boyett published poetry chapbooks by Carrie Etter and the late Nancy Lambert. He has also been a martial-arts instructor, paper marbler, advertising copywriter, editor, typesetter, and proofreader. He designs websites, plays the didgeridoo, and composes electronic music. He lives in Los Angeles with his wife, composer Maureen Halderson, and their two parrots.

GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

We are offering up TWO prize packs today, which each include an autographed copy of Ariel along with bookmarks, book fliers, and a signed copy of author Steven Boyett’s live DJ set from WorldCon. To enter, all you have to do is leave a comment here, naming your favorite post-apocalypse book/movie/comic/whatever.

The contest is open to residents of the US and Canada, and will run until Saturday September 26th at 11:59pm (pacific). One comment per person, please! Multiple entries will be disqualified. Good luck!

Also, while you’re at it – you can sign up for ANOTHER chance to win a brand spankin’ new autographed copy of Ariel over at author Steven Boyett’s blog. He’s currently running a contest, calling for the rattiest, water-damaged, duct-taped, broken copies of Ariel. The person with the gankiest copy will win! The contest has been extended until September 25! You can find out the entry details HERE.

Title: Ariel

Author: Steven R. Boyett

Genre: Speculative Fiction (Sci-Fi/Fantasy), Post-Apocalyptic

Publisher: Ace
Publication Date: January 1983 (original) / August 2009 (re-release)
Paperback: 448 pages

Stand alone or series: When Ariel was first published in 1983, it was intended as a stand alone novel – and remained so for many years (and as such, can be read on its own). But in November of 2009, author Steven Boyett returns to the world of The Change with a sequel titled Elegy Beach.

Why did I read this book: Because Ariel has become something of a cult hit in the SFF world, as a formative years classic novel. I had not yet read Ariel, so when we were offered a shiny new re-released version, I jumped at the opportunity! Plus, with the upcoming release of the long awaited sequel, Elegy Beach, I had to see what all the hullaballoo was all about.

Summary: (from Amazon.com)
At four-thirty one Saturday afternoon the laws of physics as we know them underwent a change. Electronic devices, cars, industries stopped. The lights went out. Any technology more complicated than a lever or pulley simply wouldn’t work. A new set of rules took its place—laws that could only be called magic. Ninety-nine percent of humanity has simply vanished. Cities lie abandoned. Supernatural creatures wander the silenced achievements of a halted civilization.

When they learn that there is a price quite literally on Ariel’s head, the two unlikely companions set out from Atlanta to Manhattan to confront the sorcerer who wants her horn. And so begins a haunting, epic, and surprisingly funny journey through the remnants of a halted civilization in a desolated world.

Review:

The world has changed.

One day, modern technology simply stopped working. Cars would not start, electricity failed, guns would not fire. In the chaos resulting the change of the laws of the physical universe as humanity knew them, the world became a place where magic is real and mythical creatures roam the streets. Pete Gary was fifteen when The Change occurred, and in the five years since he has lived in the wasteland of Florida, foraging for food and trying to stay alive on his own. But then, he sees her – a beautiful unicorn, with a broken leg. Unicorns have reputations as rare, skittish creatures that do not allow humans to come close to them or touch them, but immediately Pete and the unicorn form an undeniable bond. He splints her broken leg, and the two become inseparable. And, from a book he sees in a library, Pete names her Ariel.

Together, Pete and Ariel travel around the southeastern United States, stopping in libraries for maps and books, gathering what food they can, and avoiding any confrontation. When they reach Atlanta, however, Ariel draws unwanted attention – someone wants Ariel’s horn, the source of her magic and power. Though they find friends and help, danger surrounds Pete and Ariel. After a fight with a gryphon and its powerful rider leaves a man dead and another friend in pursuit of a powerful necromancer in New York City, Pete and Ariel have no choice but to head north, to confront the threat head-on.

Ariel is one of those books that I wish I had discovered as a younger reader – written by author Steven Boyett when he was nineteen years old (around the same age as protagonist Pete), Ariel is a fantastic debut effort that obviously resonates with those who read the book at around the same age. Still, even though I’m a little older and it has been over twenty years since Ariel’s initial publication, it is a novel that stands the test of time and a solid book in its own right. Blending elements of fantasy (unicorns, swords, necromancers, and magic) with a post-apocalyptic setting, Mr. Boyett creates a vivid, jagged landscape where magic triumphs over the crumbling ruins of civilization. Like the best works of the post-apocalypse genre, Ariel isn’t so much about the why of the apocalypse, but rather about what happens to the people in the aftermath. As such, a number of familiar themes appear – the scarcity of resources leading to the development of gangs and power hubs that rule with violence and fear, for example. But Ariel takes these themes in a slightly different direction by virtue of its fantasy elements – technology like guns or even vehicles no longer work, and magic becomes commonplace. Swords, crossbows and blowdarts are the weapons of choice; horses and hang gliders the preferred methods of transport. And of course, there are unicorns, necromancers, and animal familiars in the mix too. Though the combination might sound unorthodox, Mr. Boyett pulls off the blend smoothly, and with great flair – what can be more striking than images of a shimmering white unicorn and her human male partner walking along the cracked remains of freeways, doing battle in the Empire State Building with katanas and hooves and horn flashing? The juxtaposition is original, memorable, and totally rocks.

Beyond the intriguing premise, the strong setting and visuals that Mr. Boyett paints in Ariel, it also just happens to be a pretty damn good story. The plot is a journey/road quest story, tinged with a little bit of old school Star Wars (Malachi in particular makes a great Obi Wan mentor character to Pete’s Luke). As Ariel and Pete travel north, and meet others who join them (a young boy out to prove himself to his father, a woman who is enamored with Ariel at first glance), Ariel leads up to a dramatic, epic battle in the tradition of high fantasy.

That said, Ariel is also clearly the work of a young, debut author – which is both good and bad. Ariel is rife with literary allusions, both explicit in the form of direct quotes from Shakespeare, Don Quixote, and (of course) Peter S. Beagle himself, as well as implicit allusions (with character names like Ariel and Faust). In this sense, the book feels very much like a debut novel from a young author, trying to establish a place in the literary cannon, drawing upon the works of admired authors before him. And for the most part, I think the literary references are well done.

On the negative side, Ariel suffers from a number of first-novel flaws; there are a few indulgent scenes that really didn’t need to be as long as they were (step by step hang gliding instructions, for example), and scenes that should have been longer were sadly truncated. The ending in particular felt sadly rushed – kinda like the ending of The Karate Kid. You know after Daniel crane kicks Johnny in the face, he grabs the trophy and freezeframe on a coy Mr. Miyagi THE END! in about forty-five seconds flat? Ariel felt rushed like that, missing the necessary emotional release I felt the book really needed.

The pacing of the story felt uneven at times as well, complete with some clunky dialogue and cumbersome writing, and the plot was sprinkled throughout with some inconsistencies that didn’t quite add up – food seemed waaaaaaay too easy and convenient to find, and people willing to share goods without any struggle or too much mistrust; blow guns can’t possibly be so strong as to stop a grown person in their steps and knock them backwards; people in general seemed entirely too scarce (even though I intellectually know that most of the population has simply vanished, it felt strange that the roads were so open and free of conflict for the most part, but then at other junctions cities were blockaded by a border patrol of sorts). Also, the Japanese samurai sword ninja dudes were a bit over the top – how the heck did everyone 1) become sword-wielding jedi/samurai master?; and 2) where did they get these wonderful Hattori Hanzo-esque blades in the first place? Especially when the folks using them are (from what I can tell) white, southern men? I’m not gonna argue the point too much though, because frankly, who doesn’t love some samurai swords with their fiction, cheesy or not? But, I digress.

So far as characterizations go, there are also strengths and weaknesses. Pete, as the protagonist and narrator, certainly came off as incredibly genuine and fully-dimensioned, completely believable as a normal young man in a situation much larger than himself. He’s flawed and very human, and very real because of it. As for Ariel, her relationship with Pete is central to the book and it’s complicated – the two love each other, but can only be together as familiars and share a deep bond, beyond death, so long as Pete remains pure (read: a virgin). Virgins and unicorns have been tied throughout mythology (usually to female characters), and while I think Diana Peterfreund explored the gender roles of virginity from the female perspective very well in her unicorn novel this year, Rampant, I think Mr. Boyett does an interesting job of approaching this issue from the male perspective. The only character I had serious issue with was Shaughnessy, the woman who joins Ariel and Pete on the road to New York. Shaughnessy never felt real to me as a character – she was more of a caricature than a well-rounded person. She seemed more like a convenience of plot for Pete, a foil for Ariel, and it’s somewhat unsavory to me in the way things settle towards her character. As I was telling Ana in an email, the way Pete’s narrative progresses (and wraps up) is such a dude’s way of thinking (Ariel is noble/pure/perfection versus Shaughnessy’s flawed/impure/temptress). Then again, Ariel is told from Pete’s perspective, and he is a young man who really has no idea what he wants (nor does he take responsibility for any of his own actions, I might point out), so in that sense it’s actually completely genuine – unrealistic and unfair portrayal of Shaughnessy included.

One final note I should discuss is the ending itself…well, I’ve seen some negative reactions to the way it all went down. But I disagree with these reviews – I do think the ending is inevitable; it was a conclusion the story was built towards since the beginning. And I do think that the book could not have ended in any other result (even if the ending itself was rushed and lacking grace).

Overall, Ariel is a strong debut novel full to the brim with promise and imagination, and while not without its flaws, is an enjoyable book. Recommended, especially for those looking for a post-apocalyptic book with a different fantasy bend.

Notable Quotes/Parts: From Chapter 1:

What is your substance, whereof are you made
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
—Shakespeare, “Sonnet LIII”

I was bathing in a lake when I saw the unicorn.

The water was cool and clear; the pollution had vanished years ago. I’m young, but I can remember the times before the Change when the filthy water would catch fire by itself. Now, though, I could leave my clothes next to my blowgun on the shore, grab a bar of Lifebuoy, and wade on in. It was clean enough to fill my drinking flask from.

I was scrubbing myself, enjoying the feel of slippery lather. It was a quiet day — as quiet as it ever gets, only the wind and the rustling of leaves, the accompanying insects. I usually sang when I bathed, to fill up the silence, but that day the silence was fitting and right, and I remained quiet.

I had just scrubbed my face, and I ducked under to wash off the soap. When I came back up, I brushed wet hair from my eyes and spat out a sparkling stream of water. I shook my head rapidly and rubbed my eyes.

There was a unicorn pawing at my clothes on the shore.

I had seen unicorns before, fleetingly. They were shy, cautious creatures that usually bolted when they sensed me, like quick flashes of sunlight on metal. In the five years since the Change I had become used to seeing fairy-tale things, living myths, but as I looked upon this creature I knew I had seen nothing to compare to it for sheer beauty. I felt as if some cold fish had slid across my belly as I marveled in the cool water.

It is an injustice to say merely that its coat was white. Oh, it was white, all right, but it was more than that. It was a white like I remember the best vanilla ice cream, but finer and smoother. Sometimes the sun hit it just right and bright rainbow crescents fanned out like light through a fine spray of water. The hooves were mirror-bright — platinum or silver, I couldn’t tell. A distant lighthouse beacon on a lonely night, the spiral horn rose from the noble head: milky white, warm and welcoming.

I can’t say how long I watched it. Seconds, minutes, hours. Its tail swished randomly. Its nose was pressed against my backpack, but suddenly the majestic head lifted and it regarded me with two paralyzingly black eyes. Eyes full of life and intelligence. Eyes I could fall into. Lover’s eyes. As it moved, the mane shimmered on its muscular neck like a road on a hot day.

We looked at each other. Why did I suddenly have the feeling that I was the one who had no place in the world, that it was more real than I was? I was afraid to move, thinking I might frighten it away. Instead, I did the only thing I could think of to do:

“Hello,” I said.

You can read the full chapter online, along with excerpts from chapters 2 and 7 online HERE.

Additional Thoughts:

It’s been a year for unicorns! Well, kind of. It’s not too often unicorns make it into fiction these days – certainly not ones that are beyond the Lisa Frank trapper keeper version. Having just finished Diana Peterfreund’s original take on unicorns as savage, blood-thirsty, rampaging beasts that need to be slain by a contingent of female teenage virgins in Rampant, I was even more excited to read Steven Boyett’s take on the mythical creature in Ariel. And though Ariel herself isn’t much like Bucephalus or Bonegrinder in Rampant, this version of the unicorn has some really powerful, neat tricks of her own, tied to unicorn lore. Her magical abilities, her ability to speak, her very powerful horn, her affinity towards virgins, for example. Pretty cool stuff. Some other (non-girly) unicorn books for your perusal:

• The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle
• Rampant by Diana Peterfreund
• The Firebringer Trilogy by Meredith Ann Pierce
• Stardust by Neil Gaiman and The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis (well, both have a cool unicorn somewhere in the story)
• Lore of the Unicorn by Odell Shepard

Are there any other notable unicorn books anyone would care to suggest?

Also, author Stephen Boyett has a great website dedicated to Ariel, including sample chapters (audio too), interactive maps you can follow as you read about Pete and Ariel’s quest northwards, forums, and some background history about the book. Go forth and check it out!

Verdict: I highly enjoyed Ariel. Though it does have its flaws and drawbacks, Ariel’s strengths are more than ample to recommend it – especially for fans of post-apocalypse literature.

Rating: 7 – Very Good

Also, remember to stay tuned as later today we will have a giveaway of TWO autographed copies of Ariel, along with some cool book swag!

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