Songs of the Dying Earth, edited by George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois – review

The authors of the stories in this anthology all provide an afterward in which they talk about their first encounter with a piece of Jack Vance’s writing and how that piece of writing influenced their careers and inspired them.  It seems only fitting that I add my own first encounter with Jack Vance.  I know that the first time I ever read anything by Vance, it was an anthologized story that  was in a cheap paperback I’d picked up at a yard sale.  I wasn’t very impressed.  In fact, my 11-year-old self utterly detested the story.  It was weird and complicated, and I just didn’t understand it at all.  I don’t even remember which story it was, or, really what it was about, and I’d made it a point to just erase it from my mind, including the name of the author.  Four or five years later, I’d discover a copy of Lyonesse in the only used bookstore within thirty miles of my hometown. I was immediately enchanted.  The book was complex and the language was beautiful.  I hadn’t needed to learn so many new words since I was a little kid.  It was fascinating.  Then, I discovered that it was the first book of a trilogy. I became almost single-minded that summer, completely determined to get the other two books so I could find out what happened next.  I had grown into appreciating Jack Vance’s writing, and I haven’t lost that appreciation in the years since.

Songs of the Dying Earth is a collection of stories from some of the most recognizable names writing in fantasy and science fiction today, all paying homage to Vance’s Dying Earth universe. There’s a forward by Dean Koontz and stories by Terry Dowling, Mike Resnick, Jeff Vandermeer, Kage Baker, Elizabeth Moon, Lucius Shepard, Dan Simmons, Tad Williams, Glen Cook, Elizabeth Hand, Harold Waldrop, and Neil Gaiman, amongst others.  None of them try to write exactly like Jack Vance, which is good, because Vance’s style would be impossible to duplicate. He has a very unique voice that’s easy to recognize after the first reading.

It isn’t necessary to have read the Dying Earth series to appreciate this volume, although it does help to have read at least a little bit of something that Jack Vance has written.  If you don’t have at least a passing familiarity for how Vance spins sentences onto a page, it will be hard to understand what all of these writers who are amazingly talented in their own rights are trying to create. 

Suffice to say that the Dying Earth is an Earth much further along in time than our own.  Sorcerers control the majority of the power and wealth in the world, and the sun is so ancient it is huge and red and given to spots and spasms, threatening to go dark at any moment.  The wizards in Vance’s world are limited in their spellwork because the human mind can only hold a finite number of spells–six is an extraordinary number for any wizard to carry.  Once that spell has been used, it has to be recommitted to memory, and thus, relearned.  Along with the human denizens of the planet, there are also strange and fearsome creatures, pelgranes and deodands, which, for all intents and purposes, seem to be hideously grotesque mutations of humans created by “wizards” from long ago.  Some of the magic the wizards use is actually very advanced technology, but the Dying Earth has been dying for so long that the science has been obliterated by time.

The first story in this collection is “The True Vintage of Erzuine Thale” by Robert Silverberg.  It’s the tale of Puillayne of Ghuiz, who is the last great poet hedonist of the Dying Earth.  He spends his days drunk and writing poetry about how dismal life is as the Dying Earth grinds towards its inevitable end. Naturally, being a man of great wealth, his wine cellar is unrivaled.  A trio of barbarians come to visit Puillayne, claiming that they wish to hear him recite new pieces of poetry.  Instead, they attempt to rob him of his most precious wine.  They find out, quite readily, that even drunken poets can have a few surprising tricks.

In Matthew Hughes’ “Grolion of Almery” a young man traveling discovers that stopping for the night during a journey can have grave consequences, such as forced apprenticeship.

“The Copsy Door”  by Terry Dowling is a good story about the unforseen consequences of curiosity, as well as the value of novelty.  It’s a nearly classic tale about a wizard who has been cursed, only to find that his curse is not quite as detrimental as he first believes when he finds himself drawn into a contest of magical skill.

Perhaps my favorite story in the entire anthology is “The Green Bird” by Kage Baker. Readers will encounter one of Vance’s most famous characters, Cugel the Clever.  He’s an antihero who would be utterly respulsive if he weren’t the best alternative in a world filled with scumbags far, far worse than he.  Cugel finds himself enlisted to capture a green bird that lives in a home with two hideous and disagreeable sisters.  The bird purportedly knows a vast number of spells because it formerly belonged to a great and powerful wizard.  Naturally, Cugel ends up much farther in over his head than he could have ever imagined.  He has to use every bit of his intellect and deception skills to try to get himself out of the mess.

It’s difficult to pick stand out stories in the anthology, because all of the stories are so well-written and lovingly crafted.  Each of them reads like the best-told fairy tales; they’re lyrical and magical and bring on vivid mental images.  They’re engrossing gems of the writing craft, each one its own little self-contained world in the greater realm of the Dying Earth.  There isn’t a single story in the entire bunch where nothing happens.  Ordinary people end up going on quests to seek objects or knowledge, heroes (such as they exist in the Dying Earth) battle evil and monsters, wizards squabble amongst each other, and sometimes, characters find not only good, but hope.  Unlike so many post-apocalyptic stories or worlds, the Dying Earth is not a gloomy, horrifying wasteland.  There is wit and humor to be found in its stories; there is love, some hopeless and some glorious; and, even if the endings aren’t always happy, they feel true, both to the characters and the tone of the story.

My copy of the book is an uncorrected proof, and, for some reason, it does not give credit to the artist who has rendered an illustration for each story in the Subterranean Press edition.  The illustrations are detailed pen and ink drawings, which are not only impressive but also beautifully appropriate for each story.

I would recommend Songs of the Dying Earth to adults and advanced teen readers.  The language, in homage to Vance, ranges towards the complex and can be subtle.  If you haven’t got the patience for unfamiliar names, odd place names, and obscure polysyllabic words, then you should probably find another book to read.  However, if you’re looking for a book to transport you to somewhere else, if you want words to paint images in your mind, and if you want to find stories that, even when they’re short, contain all the action, treachery, and magic of epic mythology, then this is the book for you.  This book reminded me, in the best way possible, of the thrill of finding a book with writing so transcendent I forget that I should probably go back to work when my lunch hour is over.  It has beautiful writing–I cannot stress that enough–and the stories are remarkable.  It’s a worthy tribute to Vance, and one that is well worth reading.