SF Signal recently had a Mind Meld on the topic “Which SF/F/H book do you love that everyone else hates? Which SF/F/H book do you hate that everyone else loves?” that was rather interesting and made me think a bit about what mine would be. These are the best conclusions I could come to:
1. It’s certainly not “hate” and I generally wish the man well, but I have so far been completely underwhelmed by the Guy Gavriel Kay books I’ve read. I started with Tigana and expected great things of it since most people I knew loved it, but found myself frequently bored by it. It did eventually hook me towards the end, but not enough to make me wish to read it again. Then a couple of years ago I read the Fionavar Tapestry and felt active dislike. I don’t get it. I’m told The Lions of Al-Rassan might be more to my taste, but I’m wary.
2. I have made it clear in the past that I am not a C.S Lewis fan. Sure, the man may have seduced me a little with the Narnia books when I was eight and uncritical and craving all the fantasy lit I could find. And sure, I think Till We Have Faces is a genuinely fine book (and one which deserves a far better author) – Lewis still manages to rank among the few authors (Orson Scott Card is another) whose obnoxiousness cuts through their work for me. He doesn’t like me; I don’t like him.
However. I’ve never actually met anyone who liked Lewis’ Space Trilogy (give me a shout out in the comments so we know we’re not alone) but it definitely has its moments. The bit with the Sorn in Out of the Silent Planet (I squeed when the Sorn appeared in Alan Moore’s second League of Extraordinary Gentlemen book). The paranoid, underground bits in Perelandra, which I rediscovered recently since a bit was quoted in The Book of Imaginary Beings. But mostly, That Hideous Strength. There is so much wrong with this book – it is probably Lewis’ most disturbing with regard to his opinions on women. But it is so gloriously, ludicruously weird. There is a sinister Orwellian agency (called N.I.C.E). There is the Dark Side of the Moon. There is a giant disembodied head. Merlin comes back from the grave and random Tolkien references are made. There is a giant, amiable bear. With all this going on, Lewis’ terror of women in the university fades into insignificance.
