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Wednesday, February 7th, 2007 05:43 pmTell me this is not the best opening line to a book EVER:
May I speak candidly, fleshling, one rational creature to another, myself a book and you a reader?
That's the first line in The Last Witchfinder, the latest novel by James Morrow. If you've never read Morrow, you're in for a treat. He writes books of such surpassing intelligence, incisive wit, stinging social commentary, hilarious absurdity, deep compassion, jaw-dropping beauty, and encyclopaedic religious knowledge that I am constantly amazed by his work. Each time I read one of his books, I think he can't get any better. But he does. He always does.
( I've only just started this book, and already I've found things to delight me. Take a look: )
How can anyone possibly not love a mind capable of things like that?
But don't let the eyebrow-lifting wit fool you. Morrow is capable of prose of such depth, heartache and compassion that he brings me to tears regularly. He has an especial talent for endings. The final paragraphs of This Is the Way the World Ends put me in a sobbing fit, as did the ending of Blameless in Abaddon. His books always end on the perfect note, hitting you under the belt with just the right sting. I don't know how he does that, and I wish I could learn the trick!
The only other writers who have ever had such a deep and abiding effect on me have been Harlan Ellison and Professor Tolkien. Morrow's prose, his stories, his characters, and most of all, what he says about the world and humanity through them, are really incomparable with anyone else. He is utterly briliant, and I urge you to go get one of his books and enjoy a supremely satisfying experience. Any of them are great, but particularly relevant these days is City of Truth, Only Begotten Daughter, This Is the Way the World Ends, and the God's Death trilogy: Towing Jehovah, Blameless in Abbadon, and The Eternal Footman. Believe me, you will not regret the time spent in this man's incredible universe.
May I speak candidly, fleshling, one rational creature to another, myself a book and you a reader?
That's the first line in The Last Witchfinder, the latest novel by James Morrow. If you've never read Morrow, you're in for a treat. He writes books of such surpassing intelligence, incisive wit, stinging social commentary, hilarious absurdity, deep compassion, jaw-dropping beauty, and encyclopaedic religious knowledge that I am constantly amazed by his work. Each time I read one of his books, I think he can't get any better. But he does. He always does.
( I've only just started this book, and already I've found things to delight me. Take a look: )
How can anyone possibly not love a mind capable of things like that?
But don't let the eyebrow-lifting wit fool you. Morrow is capable of prose of such depth, heartache and compassion that he brings me to tears regularly. He has an especial talent for endings. The final paragraphs of This Is the Way the World Ends put me in a sobbing fit, as did the ending of Blameless in Abaddon. His books always end on the perfect note, hitting you under the belt with just the right sting. I don't know how he does that, and I wish I could learn the trick!
The only other writers who have ever had such a deep and abiding effect on me have been Harlan Ellison and Professor Tolkien. Morrow's prose, his stories, his characters, and most of all, what he says about the world and humanity through them, are really incomparable with anyone else. He is utterly briliant, and I urge you to go get one of his books and enjoy a supremely satisfying experience. Any of them are great, but particularly relevant these days is City of Truth, Only Begotten Daughter, This Is the Way the World Ends, and the God's Death trilogy: Towing Jehovah, Blameless in Abbadon, and The Eternal Footman. Believe me, you will not regret the time spent in this man's incredible universe.
