The New Weird (50 page)

As for homegrown talent that might buy in to the New Weird tradition, there seems to be none in the German language. As much as science fiction seems to be slowly reaching the same level as in the United States of the 1960s, the writers of fantasy stick so close to Tolkien you can hear their orkish ears grind, while the darker writers still chew up Lovecraft. I may have missed someone out of the mainstream, and I do not want to be unjust; but even the better story writers ― Malte Sembten, Michael Siefener, Boris Koch ― have not yet spread their wings and left the shadow of tradition. Hopefully, someday they will. . . .

Jukka Halme, freelance editor and critic

Jukka Halme has been active in Finnish fandom for many years, and headed up the organization ofFinncon 2006. In addition to writing for many publications, he recently edited an anthology of primarily American and English "New Weird" writers called New Weird? Halme appears regularly in
TAHTIVAELTAJA,
one ofFinland's finest genre publications.

"BLURRING THE LINES"

In my 2006 anthology titled
Uuskummaa? (New Weird?)
published by Kirjava, I wrote the following definition of New Weird in the introduction:

New Weird is a form of speculative fiction that tries to blur the borders between various genres (science fiction, fantasy, horror, mainstream, etc.) while aiming for a more literate style of writing.. It is an idea of fresh fantasy, sharing common ideas about mixing together various genres, politics, freedom from the cliches, and with an overwhelming tendency to play with the form. It

wants to create something new, both linguistically and literally. It is not a movement per se, since when a movement takes shape it establishes itself, stops moving and thus changes into something academic ― and New Weird stands for Change. It needs constant interaction between the Reader and the Writer as well as bold, new ideas.

How would my answer change today? Not by much. I like the idea of a loose literary "movement" that isn't too formulaic and set in stone. Therefore, no manifesto, even though it might be fun to have one, but more like general guidelines. I like New Weird as a tool with which to bind together great stories that share originality and are spontaneously different from anything else before written.

I'm not sure when the idea of this whole new fantasy that is more literary inclined, more daring and/or genre-free, came about, but I do remember that in early 2001 the genre fan and writer Gabe Chouinard wrote something about a revolution that was about to happen in the field of SF and fantasy. He called it the Next Wave and I realised I had been feeling the same rumblings for a while as well. It took me a few years to gather my thoughts, but in the end I was thinking that there isn't necessarily a single next Wave hitting the field, but
waves.
So many interesting old and new writers were doing en masse what probably many had been doing all the time alone, thus forming something that could be construed as a movement, like New Weird. A flood of great works came out during that time:
Perdido Street Station, Light, City of Saints and Madmen, The Etched City, The Physiognomy, Stranger Things Happen,
etc.
And this "movement" is ongoing, if I think of New Weird as something that combines new, weird, innovative, ground-breaking, and border-breaking, well-written fantastic fiction ― for example, Steph Swainston, Hal Duncan, Theodora Goss, Jay Lake, Nick Mamatas, Holly Phillips, M. Rickert, Sonya Taaffe, and Whoever-Else. Are they writing New Weird? Hell if I know, but I'd like to think so. Do new writers still break barriers? Do they write about important things, with style and verve and gusto? I would be seriously disappointed if not.

Are these writers creating, based on a common set of predecessors? To some extent, yes.

Personally, I like to think that Mervyn Peake is The Predecessor.
Gormenghast,
that brilliant baroque fantasy, combines the Weird from
Weird Tales
with absolute mastery of the language. One could argue about the importance of the original
Weird Tales
― authors like Lovecraft and the lot, or David Lindsay and Lord Dunsany ― but to me the first among equals is Peake. He combines everything I see as New Weird in
Gormenghast,
especially with the first two parts. In a better world, Peake would be just as strong a fantasy-father in terms of sales as Tolkien.

As for the impact of New Weird, no one can say for certain, but I hope it
has
had an impact in the sense that it has brought more visibility to the writers labelled as such, preferably in a positive way. I think it has also had some level of influence on, for example, book design, with weirder and more original art replacing standard science fiction/ fantasy images. I may be totally wrong here, but also I have this feeling that there hasn't been truly a proper appreciation for more literary fantasy before, other than with the exceptional works of the field. Would it be wrong to say that New Weird has changed the profile of fantasy? Could New Weird be used as a vehicle for marketing this Really Good Fantasy? Should one dismiss New Weird as a subgenre and just use it as a marketing tool for this Really Good Stuff?

In Finland, the impact has been moderate in terms of author popularity. Looking back for the past few years, nearly everything in genre fiction that could be described as New Weird has come from the small presses, including my own part of the "revolution": Jeff VanderMeer, Jonathan Carroll, Stepan Chapman, M. John Harrison, you're small press here, baby! (This seems to parallel the trend in the United States, in terms of the most innovative work coming from independent publishers like Small Beer, Subterranean, Ministry of Whimsy, Prime, through venues such as
Leviathan, Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet, Electric Velocipede
and
Fantasy,
just to name a few.)

However, in terms of an explosion of "New Weirdish" Finnish writing, a lot of the Finnish adult fantasy could well be described as New Weird:

Leena Krohn, Johanna Sinisalo, Pasi I. Jaaskelainen, Anne Leinonen and so on. There is a definite commonality of authors willing to break those shackling borderlines, and use the abundant possibilities of our own language in as varied and as rich a way as possible while seeking out new ideas, new taboos, and new territory. The same can be also said about writers for children and young adults, like Jukka Laajarinne and Sari Peltoniemi among others, who are constantly breaking the mould and creating something new and ― well, again ― weird.

Interestingly, a local literary movement rather like NewWeird is being used as a label for works that aren't "really" SF and fantasy, but realism-fantasy ("reaalifantasia"). This doesn't translate well at all, as realism-fantasy definitely isn't about being Real Fantasy, but more about (and I'm paraphrasing here): "genre-free writing, that flows between mimesis and fantasy; only the ratio of how much mimesis or fantasy there is, varies." A bit like New Weird, I think, since they add: "Realism-fantasy operates strongly in the everyday reality, but is not afraid to use all those methods that are unfamiliar to Finnish realistic writers, such as magic realism, science fiction, fantasy, psychological thrillers, detective stories etc."

Finnish fiction in general tends to have a very strong flavour of its own, with deep-rooted distrust for things fantastical, unless they derive from the local mythology and folklore. Johanna Sinisalo's Finlandia Award-winning novel
Troll: A Love Story
dabbles there, New Weirdishly, between various genres and styles, but staying still very much Finnish.

New Weird as I see it out there is similar but different from our domestic form. Our New Weird is possibly a bit more toned down, more rooted into our Finnishness.

Konrad Walewski, acquiring editor, translator, scholar, and anthologist

Konrad Walewski is a Polish scholar, specializing in Anglophone imaginative literature, literary critic, translator, anthologist, and, most recently, the editor-in-chief of the Polish edition of
THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY & SCIENCE FICTION.
He received an M.A. in English Studies from Maria Curie-Sklodowska University in Lublin, Poland. For the last five years he taught various courses on American literature at the American Studies Center, Warsaw University, Warsaw, Poland. He has translated into Polish, novels and short stories by such authors as Pat Cadigan, John Crowley, Kelly Link, and many others. Since 2005 he has been editing annually the anthology of foreign imaginative fiction entitled
KROKI w NIEZNANE (STEPS INTO THE UNKNOWN).
It is the continuation of the cult anthology series under this name edited by the Polish translator and editor Lech Jqczmyk and published back in the 1970s, which at that time was perhaps the only book-form presentation of Western science fiction in communist Poland.

"THE UNCLEANED KETTLE"

It seems that, contrary to prevalent beliefs and fervent declarations, both critics and readers are fond of literary labels as a specific kind of currency; among its numerous functions a label allows us to perceive certain processes occurring within literature as a comfortable series of books to be read. I think that, paradoxically, it is more natural to label those artistic phenomena that achieve a substantial intensity, integrity and scale than to pretend that they are merely a whim or hoax aimed at guaranteeing recognition and sales of a handful of novels by a group of authors.

This said, I identify New Weird as a literary strategy, a way of thinking about writing and understanding imaginative fiction, and, above all, a way of practicing it, which has turned out to be innovative not at the level of narrative technique ― there is not so much textual experimentation in it ― but rather at the level of setting and characters. Constructing baroquely lush cityscapes and eclectic, astounding locations, filling them up with multicultural and multiethnic societies of humans, monsters, and all kinds of their hybrid forms, creating complex characters and subjecting them to the dilemmas of the world they live in ― these are all characteristics of the New Weird practice. Not only did New Weird books transgress the generic limitations of science fiction, fantasy and horror, but, more significantly, emphasized the ongoing departure from the abused and exhausted Tolkienian heroic fantasy mode. What is more, its unprecedentedly dynamic and alchemically brave genre amalgamation resulted in literary synergies of high originality and attractiveness such as those in the books by China Miéville, Steph Swainston, Jeff VanderMeer, or Jeffrey Ford. The need to come up with vibrant, memorable venues as well as original characters and creatures became New Weird's most noticeable attribute.

At the level of subject-matter it rejected many jaded fantasy tropes, including the clash of good and evil, and chose the exploration of such problems as otherness, alienation, and even from both in its physiological and existential dimension. I would like to quote at this point a short passage from William Gibson's
Idoru:

Lo told me a story once, about a job he'd had. He worked for a soup vendor in Hong Kong, a wagon on the sidewalk. He said the wagon had been in business for over fifty years, and their secret was that they'd never cleaned the kettle. In fact, they'd never stopped cooking the soup. It was the same seafood soup they'd been selling for fifty years, but it was never the same, because they added fresh ingredients every day, depending on what was available.

Even though Gibson's kettle can be perceived as a witty metaphor of literature in general, I believe that it is particularly relevant to New Weird, which was, or perhaps so still is, this "uncleaned kettle" of imaginative fiction; the writing whose freshness was to a large extent the result of unrestrained stirring in the kettle as well as joyous and vigorous putting into it any ingredients that were at hand. I am convinced therefore that it is this particular artistic strategy that is fundamental to New Weird.

However, I don't think that it still exists as a coherent literary movement aimed at provoking readers or attacking stale traditions, although I am convinced that some specific traits of New Weird will reverberate in works of both new and established writers. I actually count on New Weird as a source of inspiration and a strong influence for those who take up writing imaginative fiction. I also believe that the genre-mixing strategy ― the methodical stirring in the uncleaned kettle of fantastic fiction, putting more and more fresh ingredients and spices into the brew ― exemplified by the New Weird will become a significant approach for future writers. Moreover, the necessity for writers to constantly widen their scope, employ vivid imagery, architectural lavishness, and physiological weirdness are as vital in creating imaginative fiction as narrative skills. Historically speaking, the New Wave revolution opened science fiction to mainstream writing with its variety of narrative techniques and literary traditions, the cyberpunk movement explored all kinds of technological concerns within neon-lit, infinite cityscapes, whereas, in my view, New Weird rediscovered fantastic fiction as an alchemical playground as well as re-established the necessity for a writer to concoct new, surprising formulae of imagined cities or empires and their inhabitants.

When viewed from the perspective of the category's distinctive features, I believe that at least two novels in Polish can be referred to and analyzed as New Weird since they have many similarities to the works of China Miéville, Jeff VanderMeer or Jeffrey Ford. These are
Inne piesni (Other Songs,
2003) by Jacek Dukaj and
Miasta pod Skalq (Cities Under the Rock,
2005) by Marek S. Huberath. Both of them are highly impressive achievements of Polish fantastic fiction, brilliantly conceived and masterly executed, both are set in artistically vivid, highly original, and absorbingly unique worlds of their own.

However, one has to remember that what happened as a major literary movement in Britain and in the United States was merely a marginal phenomenon in Poland, or perhaps even something that merely coincided with what was happening in the West. I do not suppose that either Dukaj or Huberath attempted to follow anyone's footsteps, even though their novels operate within the same aesthetics and employ very similar artistic strategies to those of acclaimed New Weird authors.