Harry Turtledove is, for me, one of the foremost practitioners of the alternate history genre. Since 1993, I’ve been secretly amused at the idea that Turtledove turned his hand to fantasy in addition to alternate history. I’ve passed by The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump on more than one occasion and, sadly for Mr. Turtledove’s royalty status, only picked it up on sale at a used bookstore. Even then, it was because I was picking up paperbacks that I could leave on trains, planes, and in hotels. But I didn’t leave this one behind. I guess a person who can visualize the details and interconnections between the components of an alternate history will have no trouble creating a coherent and fascinating fantasy universe. This is a delightful book with lots of intriguing connections and an economy of style and plot that turns a humorous and imaginative mystery into something bordering on epic.
The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump has a satirical edge, particularly parodying the relationship between religious culture and government bureaucracy. In Turtledove’s “Confederation,” essentially the Alternate Fantasy States of America, there are “higher” laws governing the Other Side and mundane laws dealing with the immediate reality. The problem, for Inspector David Fisher, EPA investigator (Environmental Perfection Agency because all of the places and companies in this novel are “close” but not “quite” what they seem), is that the Other Side keeps bleeding into the material world and vice-versa. Hence, Fisher is concerned with a thecology (as opposed to merely an ecology). When he is visited by a “spook” from Central Intelligence, it’s a real spirit (and some might be amused that his name is “Legion,” Henry Legion). In Turtledove’s world, religion (in all its forms) is important because even phones and “glasses” (ie. computers), lights and elevators, flying carpets and water heaters are powered by spirits. And, of course, the only way to control said spirits is through ritual.
In The Case of the Toxic Spell Dump, Fisher is tipped by a District of St. Columba (See, everything is so close, but not “quite!”) source that something might be happening at a supernatural containment area in the hills above Angels City—an extension of St. Ferdinand’s Valley. When he investigates, everything seems to be in order except for an eerie sensation of nothingness. He requests some documentation and discovers that everything is multi-layered and his investigation involves some heavy-hitters on both “Sides.” He is truly caught in a No Man’s Land between the “magical” equivalent of biotech companies and the secret government work from Loki’s Cobold Works (Yes, I recognized the reference to Lockheed’s Skunk Works. Interestingly, Turtledove spells it “Cobold” early in the book (e.g. p. 87) and “Kobold” on p. 317). This novel was written in the days before Google Maps, an era where a lot of us purchased Thomas Brothers map books to navigate metropolitan eras. In Turtledove’s Angels City, the Thomas Brothers are a monastic group who compile all sorts of information. By utilizing the facilities of the Thomas Brothers, he brings about problems for the “brothers.” All of this makes the situation as hot for Inspector Fisher as the so-called St. Ann’s Wind (p. 282, aka Santa Ana Winds in our world where the hot breezes have a tendency to increase the Los Angeles suicide and homicide rates significantly).
The frontispiece of the book tells of a panel at a World Fantasy Convention where Alexandra Honigsberg suggested that any manipulation of the environment has a price, no matter whether one was using magic or technology (Remember, that any sufficiently high technology will “seem” like magic to the uninitiated, but in Turtledove’s story, it really is magic. In response to this, Turtledove tossed off a line about toxic spell dumps that seems to have taken seed in his fertile imagination. So, what would happen if the waste materials of used magical components had to be contained in a special depository so that the evil spiritual powers couldn’t gain access to the human world? Then, what would happen if there was some kind of leakage? How would one discover the source?
Of course, such speculation is Turtledove’s forte. He is brilliant at perceiving inter-relationships between events and visualizing unintended consequences. Perhaps, it is this realistic footing that makes me take a story seriously that is filled with puns worthy of Robert Asprin, but without the total silliness. These hold together in a consistent way. I have to presume that UCAC is the University of the Confederation at Angels City, that Blue Scutum (using the Latin word for “shield”) insurance has an obvious connection to a ubiquitous plan in our world (p. 338), and that a Golden Steeples fast food franchise would be more common than Golden Arches in a land where religion and magic play such an integral role. Naturally, a SWAT team would be a Special Wizards and Thaumaturges team (p. 125), software has become “sorceware” (p. 223, as in “sorcery ware?), certain patients end up in IPU (Intensive Prayer Units, p. 343), and, instead of talking about “virtual reality,” one reads of “virtuous reality.” (p. 170)
Another nice touch is that Turtledove is not only aware of how the tenets found in comparative religion might affect his fantasy world, but he draws from the Judeo-Christian Bible for very interesting perceptions. Early on, he captures the reality that the Hebrew word usually translated word can be “thing, deed, or word” and builds on the Greek “logos” tradition to understand how the symbolic value of a word can have practical implications. He builds even stronger when he pulls that “logos” tradition into the Gospel of John and notes, “But John 1:1 and its variants in other creeds are also the basis of modern information theory. Because words partake of the divine, they manifest themselves in the spiritual world as well as in our own.” (p. 10) In another section, he has an experience which sets him in The Garden (p. 172, again, Turtledove shows an awareness of rabbinic thought where The Place may be understood as one of the names for God because it represents a venue for God’s epiphanic presence). Inspector Fisher wonders what would happen if he ate of the Tree of Knowledge in his current state. He quickly realizes that eating of that knowledge can cause oneself and others to suffer (p. 177). In addition to Torah, Turtledove seems conversant in Protestant theology (and comparative religion, of course), as well. During one particularly horrific incident, Fisher observes, “You’d have to be a very thoroughgoing Calvinist to find the mark of divine plan in that.” (p. 322) Originally, I thought Turtledove was merely making use of theological symbols because they provided a quick, easy, and often misunderstood semiotics. Upon reading the book, I am convinced that he has made some in-depth study of the Torah himself.
Of course, if one is not given to religious philosophy, one can also apply the analogy of “magic” in Turtledove’s fantasy world to the power of the spoken word (or even being able to define, diagnose, or identify a phenomenon with a word/name) in firming human volition. We tend to set our agendas based on what we diagnose as important. Though not always, this often conforms to what we say we have decided to accomplish because that sets a standard of accountability. “Magic uses words to realize what had only been imagined. I was using them to turn tragedy and horror into memory, which is ever so much easier to handle.” (p. 254)
What really grabbed me was the change of attitude expressed when the protagonist thinks, “Saving the world, not just one person, looked bigger all the time.” (p. 283) That was particularly meaningful given who the person was that he was resigned to not saving. It’s a fascinating human insight in demonstrating how we sometimes virtuously place our personal interest to the side in order to accomplish a greater purpose. One of the good things about fiction is the fact that it causes you to think about (without having to “be there”) what you would do if you needed to place your personal interest aside. Maybe it’s a little bit like “virtuous reality?”