The Pastel City

M. John Harrison

That The Pastel City, now long out of print, has been considered a classic by so many for so long may be, in fact, the book's greatest failing. As I've perused reviews of it, the one thing I notice in the negative reviews is disappointment; they didn't get the be-all and end-all of fantasy they thought they were going to. Ay, but here's the rub; a book can be a classic for more than one reason.

The Pastel City is, from the plot standpoint, your typical epic fantasy. If you've read Moorcock, Leiber, etc., you have a basic idea of what's going to go on here. Love, death, betrayal, lots of nonhuman baddies, lots of human baddies, a brooding hero-type and his overly sanguine friend, maybe a crazy dwarf or two, and lots of stuff blowing up. This is nothing out of the ordinary, and to be expected from epic fantasy. Those who read it looking for a classic of plot, I assume, are the ones most disappointed by the book.

What elevates it from its peers is its sense of style. This is a fantasy as written by a true lexiphile, Elric through the lens of John Dryden, or Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser as written by Chaucer. As with most true prose stylists (Cormac McCarthy comes to mind), Harrison's subtle blend of archaic "it's not a fantasy novel unless you do this" diction, contemporary British phrasing, and little stylistic tricks that pull the whole in an entirely new direction takes a little getting used to at first. But once you've got the rhythm of it down, you can get pulled along for the ride with consummate ease.

So let me make this clear: The Pastel City is a good book. A fine book, and one worth reading. The typical fantasy fan should probably not expect too much. The fantasy fan who is more attuned to the details of writing will get the most out of it. Word lovers, fantasy fans or not, are going to get a kick out of this.