Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett

Reviewed by Jeanne

Nine year old Tiffany is the granddaughter of a shepherd who may or may not have been a witch.  She sees the world in unusual ways, and when a creature tries to trespass, she takes it out quickly. Okay, she may have used her baby brother as bait, but needs must, right?

The creature in the river isn’t the only oddity around; Tiffany has caught glimpses of some six inch high blue men who have flaming red hair and seem to be wearing kilts—well, the ones who are wearing anything at all. These are the Nac Mac Feegle, the Wee Free Men, also known as pictsies (definitely not pixies).  They are immensely strong, and born for drinking, fighting, stealing, and fleeing in terror at lawyers.  They’re also leery of Tiffany who they call a“wee bigjob hag” and (horrors!) she can write things down.  While not her first choice of allies, they become indispensable when she has to find her missing brother.

Soon Tiffany will find herself facing a fearsome Queen, a horde of nightmares, and the prospect of matrimony. How will she ever prevail?

I have enjoyed several of Pratchett’s Discworld novels, but I have to say I find the Tiffany Aching tales to be particularly enchanting.  They have Pratchett’s trademark humor—lines that beg to be read aloud to someone, even if you have to chase them down to do it.  One of my favorite exchanges is when Tiffany approaches a traveling teacher and says she has a question about zoology:

 “Zoology, eh?  That’s a big word, isn’t it.”

“No, actually, it isn’t,” said Tiffany. “Patronizing is a big word.  Zoology is really quite short.”

In another passage, he comments that people were glad to see the teachers because they would tell a child enough to stop him asking questions, but they wanted the teachers gone by sundown for fear they’d steal chickens. I will spare you other favorite sections—oh, how I want to tell you about the teachers under the stars! —but this will give you a bit of the flavor.

However, the books aren’t just fluff and fun.  There’s a thread about figuring out who people really are.  Tiffany’s beloved grandmother was a rough, taciturn old woman who took care of sheep.  She was respected in the community for her abilities, with folks leaving her favorite Jolly Sailor tobacco as payment, but Tiffany begins to wonder if there was more to Granny than she thought.  More to the point, is there more to Tiffany than she knows?

There are also some shrewd and pointed observations about society and human behavior along the way, and the books have uncommon heart. Tiffany finds there were consequences for her previous actions, but she is brave, resourceful, and takes responsibility.  She will set things right because she caused the problem, even if she didn’t mean to.

I think if I could live up to Pratchett’s ideals I would be a better person and the world would a better place.

The Hidden People by Allison Littlewood

Reviewed by Jeanne

When Albert (Albie) meets his young cousin Lizzie at London’s 1851 Great Exhibition, he’s quite taken with her shy manner and blonde curls.  Her country manners are even charming, though Albie’s father makes it plain that he is less than enthused with this visit from their Northern relatives, with their thick accents and familiar manners. 

Several years pass.  Albie has married well, and joined his father in business. Then one evening at dinner, his father announces that Lizzie has died—and at her husband’s hand.  Even more shocking is the method:  she was burned alive because her husband thought she was a changeling.

Absolutely horrified, Albie sets out for the village of Halfoak to find out what really happened to that beautiful young woman.

Having just finished one book with a changeling theme (The Kind Folk by Ramsey Campbell), I was a bit bemused to find yet another new book with that motif.  The two are quite different, however. Campbell’s story is set in the present, and told from the point of view of Luke, a young man who discovers  he may not be who he thought he was.

With The Hidden People, the narrator is a Victorian gentleman venturing out among the rude country folk.  He finds it difficult to believe that the villagers truly subscribe to beliefs in fairies, potions, and spells and yet regards them with a great deal of condescension. He vacillates between being rapturous at the beauty of the countryside in the hot, lush summer, and feeling that he’s trapped in a hellish backwater. His investigations lead him into a tangled web, until he himself is not sure what he believes—and neither does the reader.

With a lot of twists and turns, many details of Victorian life, and vivid descriptions, the book is better suited for those who enjoy historical novels than modern horror readers.  There are some definitely unsettling parts, but the book’s leisurely pace would make an impatient reader skip over to the end.  Littlewood has certainly done her research and I enjoyed the nineteenth century feel of the tale. I also liked the folklore brought into the story. The author skillfully shifts perceptions, sometimes through Albie’s changing views but also allowing room for a more objective reader’s vantage:  I found myself holding my breath at points, wondering if Albie was losing touch with reality or if he was finding greater truths.

There was some resolution at the end but a few doubts remain.  Perhaps that’s as it should be.

Fans of Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley would find much to like in The Hidden People.

The Kind Folk by Ramsey Campbell

Reviewed by Jeanne

What would you do if you suddenly discovered your parents weren’t your parents?  That’s just what happens to Luke Arnold on national television, no less.  He’s been dragged to the Brittan’s Resolutions show—a sort of British Maury Povich program—because his father Maurice suspects Luke is really the son of his brother, Terrence, despite tearful denials from Freda, Luke’s mother. 

As it turns out, none of them are related to Luke at all.

Luke is left in an uncomfortable situation. His erstwhile mother wants to pretend nothing at all has changed, while others kept asking Luke if he isn’t curious about his biological parents.  His partner, Sophie, is expecting the couple’s first child, but she is content with whatever Luke decides to do.

Luke isn’t sure what he wants, except that he wishes the TV show had never happened.  He has the impression that his Uncle Terrence knows more than he is telling, but Terrence dies suddenly of a heart attack before Luke has a chance to question him.  He leaves his house to Luke, and when Luke goes to look it over, he finds that Terrence left a journal with many curious notations—not to mention an odd collection of artifacts, most of which seem to pertain to ancient folklore. And then Luke begins to feel he's being watched. . . .

Ramsey Campbell has been called “Britain’s greatest living horror writer,” which may be one reason I haven’t read his previous books.  Horror is not my favorite genre, not since Richard Matheson kept me awake several nights; I have enjoyed certain books (The Seeker by R.B. Chesterton springs immediately to mind) that deal more in creepiness and unease instead of gore and projectile regurgitation. I was drawn to The Kind Folk because the reviews said it drew from folklore, which I usually enjoy.

Having finished the book, I’m still not quite sure what to make of it.  The jacket copy didn’t help; it didn’t exactly fit the book I read.  I understood the underlying implication of Luke’s birth, but the broader possibilities left me more than a bit baffled.  This is probably a flaw more in the reader than the writer. I also wonder if it would have helped had I known more about the history and folklore of some of the places visited.

On the other hand, Luke’s uncertain probing into his origins held my attention.  His attempts to decipher exactly what Terrence meant kept me turning the pages but the most mesmerizing parts took place in the woods and fields where Luke feels he is being watched, maybe even glimpsing movement around the trees.  I have to say that I looked at the foliage around my house with deep suspicion after reading the book.

Campbell wrote on his website (www.ramseycampbell.com) that if he cannot achieve awe, then he strives for “a lingering disquiet.”  I think he has achieved that with The Kind Folk.