The Good Fairies of New York by Martin Millar
242 pages
Published 1992
Read September 6
Rating: ★★★ out of 5
The
copyright date on this small-press edition says 2006, but I was hardly
two pages into this book when I said to myself, "No way. No way this is
from 2006. This was published in the early '90s, it had to have been."
Sure enough, a quick Google search confirmed an original publication
date of 1992. I don't know whether to feel accomplished or glum that I
can so readily identify, on stylistic grounds alone, when a piece of
fantasy fiction was published.
Maybe I shouldn't feel either,
though, because pinpointing the '90s origin of this story was about as
difficult as approximating the date of a blond boy in a bowl haircut and
stone washed jeans and white hightops. This book is incredibly friggin'
'90s. It feels like an extended version of Mike Resnick's story "Revolt
of the Sugar Plum Fairies," the most dated story from the incredibly
dated early '90s anthology After the King.
While Millar has the decency to avoid TV commercial catch-phrases and
none of his characters speak in jive (giving him two points up on
Resnick), he nonetheless manages to cram in just about every stylistic
convention of early '90s fantasy: a too-cool-to-care tone and hip
sarcasm, winking references to older conventions of the genre, attempts
at grittiness largely at odds with the flippant tone, heroic (but
schizophrenic) homeless, freshman-level social commentary direct from
Pearl Jam B-sides, casual (even "comedic") substance abuse. I don't know
if the ghost of a Johnny Rotten stand-in coming down from heaven to
find his guitar is a '90s fantasy cliche, but it feels like it should
be. The characters, with the exception of the two human leads, are
interchangeable and scarcely defined, which made the frequent
two-paragraph digressions to the secondary "stories" seem dull and
mostly pointless. (Hey, this fairy king in Cornwall has industrialized
his kingdom and all his fairies are factory serfs! Oh, you still
remember that from two pages ago? Well, I have nothing new to add to
this plot thread, just thought you'd like the reminder.)
The main
two humans are caught in another tiresome storytelling convention of
their own, a rom-com. I'm actually a bit surprised this hasn't become
some sort of summer vehicle for B-list actors. The woman is totally a
punk-rock hippie girl stereotype, a manic pixie dream girl, except she
has a colostomy bag and motivations (however flimsy) of her own. (An
artsy manic pixie with Crohn's disease -- truly, a heroine for the
internet age.) The man is a bigoted schlub and misanthropist. I pictured
him differently while reading the book, but now that I'm thinking of
casting calls, I could totally see him as a young Jack Black. The wider
story around them is a run of the mill farce, full of misunderstandings
and miscommunications and silly MacGuffins changing hands faster than I
cared to keep track of them. Farces can quickly grow boring if not
handled with panache, and this one quickly became boring.
I'm not
sure why I'm being so generous with the rating. It wasn't a painful
read, and I enjoyed myself (very) mildly, but that should rate two and a
half stars, if I'm trying to be consistent. But whatever, I'm not. It's
all arbitrary anyway.
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