King and Queen of Souls


Below is the end of my review of THE QUEEN OF CLOUDS by Neil Williamson, its full context here:


“Where was the Book’s sacred every hand the same in all of that?”

“Gallon jars of darkling ink”, a bomb like a prize pumpkin, all cats if not all characters called by the same name, Bello versus Bello in some eternal fight, and a dirigible…“There is only one sky in this world, wild one.” This Gestalt has become the Gaia. Whether motal = mortal is “a moot point”…
And a possibly forgotten Queen sitting “stone-faced”…
Here is represented what I imagine awaits us all eventually, i.e. a transformation that should not be able to be described or contained within any words — except it is somehow described or contained here! The sylvan seeds of renewal are certainly possible, I hope, to enable absolution of all that needs absolving, and the grain of structures we need to look out from towards whatever visionary vision it is.

The ending of this chapter and its coda makes me think that I should re-read The Moon King as that earlier novel now seems equivalent to this book’s own ‘paper and ink’ version of the transformation described within it, but a transformation in which direction of timelessness? Whatever the case may be, the two books represent for me a combined pillar of high class speculative fiction with Swiftian fable for our times and containing poetic expression — and a sacred or mystic sensibility, whether that stems from the particular grain and knurls of belief within its freehold author or not.
The reader’s personal rite of passage within this wild plot and character-storm has affected the reader’s own mental-weather day by day for the past month. He shall miss it.
Towards ultimate Loess — “Anonymous service is admirable, but it’s not my style. […] He is a resource, as we all are. And in our world resources are shared equally.”


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