James P. Blaylock

A cheese-maker sails down the river to trade his wares and inadvertently finds himself in the middle of an adventure involving a sinister dwarf and a magic watch.

The Elfin Ship deals with three men on a boat (to say nothing of the dog) going on a reluctant quest in which good food and creature comforts are elaborately described, all written in the folksy style of the 19th-century American West. Which is to say that the book reads like a mélange of Jerome K. Jerome, J. R. R. Tolkien (circa The Hobbit), and Mark Twain (with perhaps a dash of Jules Verne's steampunkisms thrown into the mix). The book begins with an epigram from The Wind in the Willows, but I would argue that Kenneth Grahame's influence is largely absent from this novel. While both books share a focus on homey comforts, boating trips, and unheroic decency, Grahame's book has a degree of pathos and human frailty that is absent from The Elfin Ship, which is merely sweet and comforting and forgettable.
… (més)

Featuring a scattered narrative with a bumbling cast of characters muddling through various situations, this book is not half as clever as Blaylock probably intended. It is also not steampunk; more magical realism or science-fantasy with nearly incomprehensible 'science', (the machine works because Giles thinks it will. Otherwise, it is powered by nothing more than a picture of a printed circuit. Ummm... wut?!?). Nevertheless, the book does feature many passages of wonderfully descriptive writing. I also enjoyed the subtle references to The Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. I had heard they both independently wrote William Ashbless into their narratives so I knew to expect him as a character here - but the sly mention of Brendan Doyle made me smile, as did the even more subtle mention of a man with the face of a hairy ape. I plan to follow-up read [Zeuglodon] soon.… (més)