[7/10]
My third Newford book and probably not my last. I have not been reading them in order, but that's OK, as they can be enjoyed independently. I'm trading being more or less clueless about some of the recurring characters in order to focus on the ones particular to each novel as a stand-alone. Forests of the Heart refers to the notion of Home, the place, geographical as much as spiritual that defines and nourishes us, gives us strength and a feeling of continuity, of belonging to a history larger than our indivudual lives.
The fictional city of Newport sits on the border. On one side are the Manitou, the native spirits who are being pushed away by the destruction of the forests and the expansion of the city. On the other are the Gentry - spirits from the Old World brought across the ocean by the Irish immigrants, adapted to urban lifestyle but trying to carve a realm of their own out of the manido-aki / la epoca del mito / the spirit world. The myth of The Summer King / The Green Man / Lord of the Dance , of the period of summer and revelry being followed by winter and the need for a sacrifice that guarantees the return of spring is central to the story. Guy Gavriel Kay used a similar theme in The Fionnavar Tapestry. The meeting of these two cultures (native ans celtic) was seen in other Newford books. What I found of particular interest in this one is the introduction of a third strain : the Navajo / Mexican / Catholic heritage of the western desertlands, with its shapeshifters, herb-lore, milagros and especially the cadejos - another example of animal spirits in search of a home.
One of the theories embraced by the author is that the artists are more open to the supernatural world than the common people, more ready to accept and to explore the realm of the fantastic. The setting of the book helps, as most of the action takes place around Kellygnow, an artist colony in a suburb of Newford. Ellie Jones is a sculptor who receives a comission from a mystery woman to carve a copy of an ancient mask. Her ex-boyfriend Donal is a painter who holds a grudge against society in general, likes to drink and gets mixed up with the Gentry. Bettina is part Indian part Mexican, an artist model and a mystical healer trained in the spiritual arts by her grandmother ( abuela ). Donal's sister Miky works in a record store and in her free time she picks her accordion and plays in bars to both jazz and Irish folk music. Hunter is the owner of the record store, he gets caught in the plot almost by mistake, but rises to the occasion bravely. Tommy Raven is not an artist, but an Indian young man who provides the link to the Indian comunity through his formidable sixteen aunts. Tommy and Ellie in addition worl as volunteers in an organization that seeks to help the homeless of the big city, another nod at the central theme of the novel, of the need for a home and an identity:
They’re just people, Donal. More messed up than some of us, and certainly more unlucky. And if some of them choose to live the way they do, it’s not because they have some romantic story hidden in their past. It’s because they’re kids whose home lives were so awful they prefer to live in the different kind of hell that’s the streets. Or they’re schizophrenics who can’t get, or won’t take, their medicine. They’re alcoholics, or junkies, or on the run, or all of the above and then some. And the world they live in isn’t safe. It’s more dangerous than anything we can imagine. We go into it, but we can step back out whenever we want. They can’t.
Quite a large number of characters to follow around, but de Lint never falters in the development of the story, proving once again he is a master of the craft. I did have some issues with the author sometimes getting into lecture mode, preaching a sort of New Age gospel, and with the way things wrap up towards the end, when the feel good and think positive ethos kind of gets out of hand, but overall this is another successful treatment of the urban fantasy format. I believe Charles de Lint comes closer than any other author to Neil Gaiman when it comes to big concepts and with integrating diverse mythologies into a coherent imaginary world. But this impression may be helped along by the fact that I've also been reading The Sandman in parallel with this one.
I suggest to give a try to both of them:
“Little mysteries, they’re good for the soul.”
“How so?”
“They keep us guessing.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Well, sure. Mysteries break the patterns we impose upon the world — or maybe let us see them more clearly for a change.”
A final comment about music: I find myself greatly attracted to the playlist provided by the author both in the introduction and all through the text. Not only am I OK with New Age records (Enya, Yanni, Keiko Matsui, etc), but I like to mix them with folk music, jazz, classical, rock and the occassional pop chart hits. Hunter's indie music shop reminded me of the friendly banter and the oddball characters hanging around the shelves in one of my favorite feelgood movies : Empire Records - so consider this as an added attraction for checking out the book.