I had been hoping to read You Let Me In in time to include it in the series of posts on fairy literature and mythology I wrote to coincide with the publication of The Good Neighbours back in June. As often happens with my reading, the stars of time and ambition were not in alignment. However, now that I have read the novel I can see how beautifully it would have slotted into my list of favourite fairy fictions – and how oddly out of place it feels on this year’s list of Clarke Award submissions.
A year after their Aunt Cassandra goes missing, Janus and Penelope receive a curious letter, summoning them to an empty house and with instructions to read a manuscript they will find on the desk there. This manuscript is novelist Cassandra Tipp’s last will and testament – and the book you are holding. Cassandra’s life has not been easy. Previously put on trial for her husband’s murder, her role in the death of her doctor, not to mention several other close family members has also been the subject of gossip and speculation. Her late-blooming success as a romantic suspense novelist leaves us in no doubt of her way with words. But is her confession all it seems, or just another fairy tale? Janus and Penelope have a decision to make, and it looks like their involvement in their family’s strange history is far from over.
You Let Me In performs the extraordinary feat of being two novels slipped inside a single skin. On the surface, Bruce’s novel is a dark fairy tale, the story of a house in the woods besieged by the fair folk and the overflow of faery mythology into the mundane world. Beneath the shadow of the trees, however, lurks a tale of a different kind, a deeply troubling account of child abuse and family secrets, truths suppressed for so many years they have become unspeakable.
As with all the best fairy stories, Bruce leaves the matter open. Her writing is like the book itself – a wealth of lovely images and fine landscape writing that hides its thorns and snares beneath a wreath of flowers. To call this book delightful would be to do it a disservice – it’s far too weird for that. I can see why the publisher wanted to submit You Let Me In for the Clarke Award, because this is a novel that certainly deserves wider attention than it has attracted so far. But science fiction it is not, so I can equally understand why the jury did not select it for the shortlist. You Let Me In is exactly the kind of novel you might expect to do well at the Shirley Jackson Awards, and had I been on the jury, I could well have been agitating to swap out one of the other titles and place You Let Me In on that shortlist instead.
In any case, I am now eagerly awaiting Bruce’s second novel, the intriguingly titled Triflers Need Not Apply, based around the story of a nineteenth-century Norwegian-American serial killer I’d never heard of previously. Bruce has already shown herself to be a bold and original writer, and I’m sure this new book will leave readers equally haunted.
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In other news, a reminder that my new story collection The Art of Space Travel is now out in the world! I have been immensely gratified by the response it has received so far. As an overview of my work in short fiction to date, this book is special to me and interesting, I hope, for the reader. In the introduction I talk about how my idea of the short story has continued to shift and change, also how connections between stories – the idea of stories as episodes in the lives of characters, lives that may be revisited at any time – have always formed an important focus. I deliberately chose to skew the collection more towards science fiction than towards horror – for the simple reason that I would like to keep my options open for putting together a more horror-inflected collection at some later date. So hang on in there, horror fans – you are always in my heart.
I would also like to mention Out of the Ruins, an anthology of apocalypse and dying Earth stories edited by Preston Grassman and containing a brand new story by me. ‘A Storm in Kingstown’ is truly one of my favourites among my own stories, and might yet form part of a longer cycle because I fell in love with these characters and their world. The anthology boasts stories by China Mieville, Emily St John Mandel, Lavie Tidhar, Chip Delany and Ramsey Campbell among others, so why not stick it on your Hallowe’en reading list right now?
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While I’m here, I can’t resist sharing the marvellous and beautiful cover art for the French edition of The Dollmaker, which has been receiving some lovely reviews and notices across the channel.
The doll depicted is the work of dollmaker extraordinaire Laurence Ruet, whose work so resembles that of my own dear dollmaker Andrew Garvie that it has me catching my breath each time I see it. You can watch a stunning video of Laurence at work here. I honestly cannot think of a more fitting match between cover and contents. The Tristrams knock it out of the park yet again!
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Chris and I spent last week on the Isle of Skye, a superb experience that I am still digesting. It really is true that every Scottish island is different, with its own character and unique landscape. Skye is vast, a kingdom in itself, with the magnificent Cuillin mountains dominating the landscape. Meanwhile, I am making tentative progress with my next novel, embedding myself in that beginning part of the process which for me might more rightly be called a series of experiments, of false starts and new directions and many words discarded as I get to know my material and come to understand what I want to do with it. I think I’m almost ready to make a proper start now. I hope so, anyway!