I’ve been itching to read Jeff Vandermeer for ages. My copy of City of Saints and Madmen came in earlier this week, and i dove into it, as i’m bogged down in at least a dozen other books, and a little fantasy seemed that it would be a good palate cleanser and/or momentum builder.
It’s, um…. I dunno. It’s more than enjoyable enough, but with this first piece, i keep thinking of someone putting Nick Cave and that guy from the Decemberists together in a room (some of the language is whimsically archaic, and i’m a little wary of that,) and telling them to do a round-robin story. All of the archaic language is making me cringe. Another analogy would be if Michael Moorcock (who wrote the intro) sliced up pages of the works of Herman Melville (whaling,) Joseph Conrad (rivers, civilization degenerating into savagery,) and Gabriel Garcia Marquez (tractless, fever-tainted jungles, obsessed priests,) with a good peppering of Lovecraft (fungi cults,) and other pulp horror brethern.
This is may not a bad thing. Hopefully i’ll do a followup when i get further into the book or finish.