Berkley Medallion, first paperback edition, 1976. Crowley's well-received 1975 first novel. A visitor arrives from elsewhere on a strange medieval world where the two factions, the "Reds" and the "Blacks", struggle for supremacy through battle, murder and treachery.
John Crowley was born in Presque Isle, Maine, in 1942; his father was then an officer in the US Army Air Corps. He grew up in Vermont, northeastern Kentucky and (for the longest stretch) Indiana, where he went to high school and college. He moved to New York City after college to make movies, and did find work in documentary films, an occupation he still pursues. He published his first novel (The Deep) in 1975, and his 15th volume of fiction (Endless Things) in 2007. Since 1993 he has taught creative writing at Yale University. In 1992 he received the Award in Literature from the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters. His first published novels were science fiction: The Deep (1975) and Beasts (1976). Engine Summer (1979) was nominated for the 1980 American Book Award; it appears in David Pringle’s 100 Best Science Fiction Novels. In 1981 came Little, Big, which Ursula Le Guin described as a book that “all by itself calls for a redefinition of fantasy.” In 1980 Crowley embarked on an ambitious four-volume novel, Ægypt, comprising The Solitudes (originally published as Ægypt), Love & Sleep, Dæmonomania, and Endless Things, published in May 2007. This series and Little, Big were cited when Crowley received the prestigious American Academy of Arts and Letters Award for Literature. He is also the recipient of an Ingram Merrill Foundation grant. His recent novels are The Translator, recipient of the Premio Flaianno (Italy), and Lord Byron’s Novel: The Evening Land, which contains an entire imaginary novel by the poet. A novella, The Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines, appeared in 2002. A museum-quality 25th anniversary edition of Little, Big, featuring the art of Peter Milton and a critical introduction by Harold Bloom, is in preparation.
Note: The John Crowley who wrote Sans épines, la rose: Tony Blair, un modèle pour l'Europe? is a different author with the same name. (website)
October 2022 re-read thoughts: I was somewhat surprised when I found that I couldn’t help but keep thinking of Martin’s ASoIaF as I was re-reading this classic by Crowley. When I thought more about it, though, it became a fairly obvious connection: there’s the internecine battles, both open and covert, in a pseudo-medieval world as powerful families vie for ultimate power; a faction of gray-robed intellectuals in the form of the Grays that reminded me not a little of Martin’s Maesters; and admittedly though there are no dragons or armies of the undead there is a strange alien who acts as both observer and catalyst for change. Similarities aside they are very different works, and I was, yet again, astounded with Crowley’s deft hand and his ability to put so much characterization, plot, and depth into his slim volume that quite frankly puts Martin’s bloated page count to shame.
I remembered most of the broad strokes of the story from my first read, but many of the details, especially in regards to the ending, had slipped my mind and I found this foray to be very fruitful as a result. In a world of endless repetition (the ‘immortality’ granted to its people by a capricious god with a wry sense of humour) we appear to come full circle and end where we began, but even the best laid plans of a god may go awry and something new may finally bloom in this flat-earth experiment. One faulty tool, and the desires and devotions of the people he meets, may bring to the world a change unforeseen by its absent creator.
Yeah, still impressed by this one. I can’t put it any better than has been said in another review online that I read: this is a slender, forgotten gem of a book.
June 2013 re-read thoughts: The underlying allegorical aspect of the Red/Black dichotomy (referencing both playing cards and chess...I mean these characters live out their lives on a flat-earth ‘playing board’!) is definitely strong. To add to the confusion many of the characters, especially those in the Red camp, have names so similar as to be utterly confusing at first. Despite this, though, I can really feel for them and they each grow into unique and complex individuals that live and breathe in a way that is real to me: Fauconred the old and trusted retainer, not too bright, but handy in a pinch and with a healthy dose of common sense; Learned Redhand and Sennred, the men who come to realize to what their loyalty must be given no matter the personal cost to themselves; Redhand, the proud and aristocratic warrior who is not above doing what is expedient, yet whose moral centre is not without a keen sense of honour; Red Senlin’s Son and Younger Redhand, one a king at once venal and grasping, yet driven by love (or is it hate?), the other a younger son and brother trying desperately to live up to the family members he worships, both touched by madness; Caredd, the loving and perhaps naïve wife, whose inner strength and compassion proves to be the bedrock for more than one man. The story itself is a story of circles, repetition, of changeless change. Something new has happened though and while we seem to end where we began it becomes apparent that something new has occurred, a twist in the pattern that just might be a newness that bears seed and grows, not one that reinforces the old way-worn paths.
Crowley is just so deft and precise in his characterization and plotting in this book that I wonder why he felt the need to ‘evolve’ towards doorstopper tomes and multi-volume epics (that are unfortunately mainly populated by uninteresting or unsympathetic characters and seem to me a bit scatter-shot in their execution)*sigh*. Final judgement: still a great read that displays to perfection how an author can use brevity and conciseness to build a whole world.
Original review:
This is a great, weird, crazy little sf-fantasy that I love for reasons I can't really put my finger on. Crowley's ability to simply write is obviously one of the elements that works in the book's favour, though my review of Little Big will show that, in my opinion at least, that isn't always enough to carry a Crowley book.
I can (and did) easily imagine this as a movie from the 70's with David Bowie starring as the enigmatic Visitor from the stars (a role he is familiar with) as he wanders in an amnesiac haze through the strange flat-earth world created by Crowley. Throughout his journey he witnesses the internecine wars of the Reds and the Blacks, the two reigning groups of aristocrats (who seem to be something of an amalgam of playing cards and chess pieces...though more fleshed out than that description implies) along with the guerilla resistance of the Just.
There's obviously a fairly strong allegorical element to this tale, and normally I don't like that, but Crowley manages to overcome this and still make his characters people, despite their obvious archetypes. Crowley's concerns with examining how human power corrupts, even when used with the best of intentions, and the idea of examining how a closed system will develop when only certain known external factors are allowed to be introduced were interesting, but ultimately I think this book's success lies in the fact that it was a story easy to get lost in and simply enjoy from start to finish.
[7/10] An early effort from an unconventional fantasy author. It's difficult to apply the word epic to a book under 200 pages, but I believe it is appropriate. 1975 is well before the advent of doorstopper sized, extruded long series like the Wheel of Time. Another reviewer made a comparison with George R R Martin famous Westeros books, and looking through Crowley bio I see it is not an accidental remark. Both authors went to the same source material : The War of the Roses. Two powerful factions, The Reds and The Blacks, fight it to the death for the throne at the center of the world. Nobody is safe and major characters are cut down shortly after being built up. We have sisters of Mercy (Endwives), Maesters of a sort (The Gray) and an assassin sect (The Just) . The common people (The Folk) are largely ignored as they get caught in the middle of the warring factions. The setting is medieval and low on magic. Another coincidence between the two series is a religious system based on the number seven and on a set of tarot cards used to scry for future events (Erikson?). I really liked this angle, although it was underdeveloped. I made a note of the basic duality for each Deity / Virtue :
- Chalah, who is Love and its redemption, is also Lust and its baseness. - Dindred, who is Pride, Glory, thus Greatness in the world's eyes, is also blind Rage, thence treachery and ingloriousness. - Blem, who is Joy and good times, Fellowship and all its comforts, is too Drunkenness, Incontinence and all discomforts. - Dir, who is Wit, is the same Dir who is Foolishness. - Tintinnar is the magnanimity of Wealth, the care for money, thus meanness and Poverty. - Thrawn is Strength and Ability, exertion, exhaustion, and lastly Weakness and Sloth. - Rizna is Death. Death and Life, who carries the sickle and the seedbag, and ever reaps what he continually sows.
If the plot reminds me of GRRM, the style is not yet wholly Crowley and pays some homage to Michael Moorcock, with a prevalent dark, gothic mood. The world is a disk, but it has little to do with Sir Terry Pratchett's invention: the struggle for survival leaves little time for humor.
And there came the world. Merely a bright line at first, on the darkness of the horizon where the Deep met the black sky; then widening to an ellipse. The world, flat and round and glittering, like a coin flung on the face of the Deep. It came closer, or he grew closer to it -- the sun crossing above it cast changing light upon it, and he watched it change, like a jewel, blue to white to green to veined and shadowed like marble. Only it, in all the Deep that surrounded it, all the infinity of dense darkness, only it glowed: a circle of Something in a sea of nothing.
Some descriptive passages, although short and rare, show the lyrical direction Crowley will go in later novels:
Through the morning, mist in wan rags like unhappy ghosts rose up from the Outlands, drawn into the sun, but still lay thick along the river they followed. Gray trees with pendulous branches waded up to their knobby knees in the slow water.
The prose is dense and challenging at times. Characterization is good, but the naming conventions are unfortunate, with everybody having Black or Red in his family name and an absence of first names (using Older, Younger, Son of, Little instead). The focus is on the big picture where the actors are looked down upon from a great height, toiling like ants unaware that their destiny is controlled by larger forces.
These forces are another aspect that I found typical of the seventies in genre fiction, when fantasy was viewed as the little sister of SF, and writers put in a scientific angle in order to atract the readers. I'm thinking of Pern and Shannara, but also of the big success of conspiracy theorist Erik von Daniken. The Deep opens with the arrival of a Visitor, fallen from the skies in a mechanical egg. He is 'hairless, sexless, birthless, deathless' , probably a construct of sorts who has lost his/its memory and forgoten the mission he was sent to accomplish. His quest for self awareness parallels and redefines the faction war he is a witness and recorder of.
Highly recommended for readers who like compact, single book epics and who prefer puzzles and mysteries left unexplained instead of having every point and angle spoonfed to them (I'm thinking of Sanderson here).
Let's say that having read "The Deep" long ago, "Game of Thrones" doesn't seem so new or different. And let's say, too, that Crowley's language is lovely and evocative and haunting and that his sense of endless struggle and dynastic intrigue is deft and icy. It may be hard now to find "The Deep", but it's worthwhile. Track it down, darlings.
I first started reading this novel when I went on a trip to Romania back in 1993. Unfortunately I lost the book before I finished the last two chapters. So it felt good, twenty years later, to get reacquainted with it and to actually finish it.
It's a masterpiece, no doubt about that; anyone who likes Game of Thrones is almost certain to enjoy it; indeed I am convinced that George R.R. Martin has read The Deep and that it influenced him, consciously or unconsciously. Crowley's novel is like an ultra-condensed version of the military, political and personal intrigues that take place in Martin's famous epic.
The writing is incredibly dense. Like William Golding, Crowley says more in three pages than most writers would say in thirty. But this makes the novel a slower read than most. To rush this book is to do it an injustice. As a consequence, although it is less than 200 pages long it works like an enormous saga. There is much to digest.
The quality of the prose is superb. It is lyrical and magical but never flowery for its own sake: the poetry has meaning. Some of the scenes are described so deftly that they will remain with you for years. The city in the lake at the centre of the world; the rooftop escape; the journey through the marsh; the climb towards the edge of everything and the cosmic monster that lives in the deeps of space.
John Crowley is one of the best living writers. This was his first novel and it is a vastly accomplished debut. It is almost inconceivable that he would go on to write books even better and more magical than this one, but he did.
This was Crowley's debut novel. It's the kind of work where how much a reader would enjoy it is probably more dependent on the reader than the text itself. It would've been much better for me if I hadn't read what others thought after reading this. This is definitely among the most I've been negatively affected by reading the reviews of others, regardless of their rating, though the most liked reviews are considerably higher than its average rating. Divergences like that happen from time to time. Sometimes it's a negative review for a popular and well-liked book instead.
Apparently a major draw for those who greatly enjoyed it is for how it's written. I'm indifferent to that. Another common comparison was to Game of Thrones, which I think was misguided. This may also be the case where not understanding what was happening made it seem better, though I didn't think this science fantasy novel was that difficult to understand. It didn't seem all that strange to me either personally. A primary point of confusion are the character names, which seems intended to show that none of it really matters and that they're all interchangeable. I tend by what the author's intent seems to be, though it's entirely possible I misunderstand at times.
There's a lot of political intrigue in a pseudo-medieval setting between two related families and a lot happens in relatively few pages. In most cases I would've enjoyed this, but due to the narrative structure and what I saw as the author's intent I wasn't able to do so. I only saw it as a surface level melodramatic obfuscation to what was really going on. When it eventually tells the reader what's going on, I didn't care all that much. It's fine, but it didn't resonate with me. I'm glad that I read Engine Summer first because it has thematic similarities, but I thought they were handled better than here. I don't think it'd take that much to remake either as a Black Mirror episode.
The following is my interpretation, so it's completely spoiler filled.
I left this a few days to stew before trying to review it, and I still can’t really decide what to make of it. There’s a plethora of names with too many similarities to really keep track, and to what extent it matters is kind of up in the air as well, and that sense of confusion kind of permeated the whole thing for me. It does emerge into the light a bit at the end, with you being able to get a clearer sense of the cyclical story the novel follows, and the potential changes wrought by this particular version of the cycle… but, I don’t know, it never quite worked for me.
Reading some other reviews helps me appreciate it more, but on its own I was just left feeling… meh. I was a heretic and felt that way about Little, Big, too, so maybe it’s a me-thing.
I just… didn’t enjoy it, however much of a classic (or an SF Masterwork) it might be.
A strange political drama played out in a surreal world that is just familiar enough to be recognizable in broad strokes, but becomes ever more fantastical the more you focus on it. Imagine War of the Roses played out it via a deck of cards on a large table, and you're a lot closer than you might think.
I liked it a lot. Crowley has a very evocative way of writing, a style that works well for both sketching out landscape visuals (some of my favorite in the genre) and for tackling core issues of humanity.
There are parts I wish were sharper, more clear, less... metaphorical. I get why naming an important character "King Red Senlin’s Son" is important to the themes of the book, but also it drove me nuts.
But otherwise it's short and sweet, very memorable, and something I'll think on for some time.
The Deep, being the first published book by John Crowley, is also a perfect example of Crowley's style. The Deep takes place on another world where two warring factions, the Reds and the Blacks, are essentially re-enacting King Henry VI Part III. This is just as well, as it makes the action of those portions of the novel easier to follow with character names like Redhand, Old Redhand, Younger Redhand, Red Senlin, Red Senlin's Son, and so forth. The similarities in name serve a purpose for the theme of the novel, but might prove difficult to some.
Of course, there are several factors that distinguish this novel from a mere retelling of a Shakespearean play. One is the arrival of the "Visitor" from the sky, a genderless android whose purpose in coming to this world has been forgotten after being attacked by a group of the Just. The Just are a secret group of assassins that pop up every once in a while to dispose of a political figure with their muskets.
The interaction of the political struggles, Just, and the Visitor is what ultimately makes this more than a book about warring factions. In true Crowley fashion, it actually turns metaphysical in parts.
As always, due to Crowley's ultimate reason for writing this book, The Deep does not end the way normal, plot driven books end. What many would consider the "main plot points" fizzle out at the end. At least, to the viewpoint of modern pop lit convention. Perhaps the most challenging aspect of this and almost any John Crowley work is that Crowley does not spell everything out. He leaves that up to the reader. As a result, you will have people who are satisfied with how everything turned out, even the Visitor sub-plot as well as people scratching their heads wondering what the point of the Visitor was in the first place.
The Deep was a quick read for me. But it was exciting and thoughtful as well. The work as a whole will give my mind something to chew on for some time and will eventually demand a re-read.
An alien amnesiac crash lands in a medieval world. In two hundred pages Crowley limns an epic fantasy then upend it. Fabulous stuff, Crowley (as I've mentioned earlier) is one of our best. Both this and the earlier Beast are fascinating in that they show his range as a writer, eschewing the pageantry of his later writing in favor of a style which seems boiled down to its barest essence, telling in a few pages what could plausibly be expanded to five or ten times its length. Excellent.
"The Deep (1975) was John Crowley’s first published novel and his first of three SF works from the 70s (The Deep, Beasts, Engine Summer). He is best known for Engine Summer (1979) and his complex/literary fantasy — Little, Big (1981) and the Ægypt sequence (1987-2007). In the two novels of his I’ve read (the other is Beasts), Crowley’s prose is characterized by an almost icy detachment, an adept construction of unusual [...]"
The Deep is Crowley’s first published novel. You can see a lot of the themes and characteristics that he’d later develop more fully in books like Engine Summer; Little, Big; and the Ægypt cycle: narratives that begin in medias res and end more or less unresolved in terms of plot, slippery reality that raises two questions for every one that is answered, alternate dystopian worlds that connect with our own in unexpected ways, and scholar characters who try to stand outside the stream of history but are swept along in its turbulence anyway. But The Deep is unique in that it is set on a world explicitly not Earth: it is a pillar, “founded upon The Deep” (i.e. space) and around its base Leviathan lies coiled. It is also unique in its quasi-medieval setting, and its lack of a central viewpoint character.
The Deep opens with a mysterious Visitor coming to land in a silver egg-shaped craft. He has the misfortune to land in the middle of a battle, and he is wounded and loses his memory. Two Endwives—women who help the wounded and dying after a battle—take him in and discover that he is not human, has no gender, and (it is implied) is at least part machine. He sets off to discover his purpose, which leads him through wars and political upheaval and assassination and betrayal to the edge of the world.
Elsewhere, in the City at the world’s center, two factions are struggling for power: the Reds and the Blacks. (If you are put in mind of checkers or chess, that is almost certainly intentional. At several points, Through the Looking Glass is indirectly referenced.) A third faction, the Grays, are unaligned; they’re more like a religious or scholarly order, and it’s their task to arbitrate legal matters and engage in research. A fourth faction, the Just, are a secret society dedicated to assassinating leading members of the government. Lastly, there are the Folk (i.e. peasants), and the tribes outside the City’s control.
At the beginning of the book, after the Visitor’s arrival, the Protector, Black Harrah, is discovered committing infidelity with the Queen, whose husband King Little Black is short, old, sterile, and insane. Black Harrah is killed, Little Black is deposed, and Red Senlin’s Son takes the throne in the midst of civil war. Red Senlin’s Son (that is literally his name) and Black Harrah’s son Young Harrah are lovers, and the king’s extravagance angers some Reds and Blacks. Eventually, the new Protector Redhand kills Young Harrah and is forced to flee. He meets up with the Queen and her army and goes to fight the king’s supporters.
Meanwhile (this is a very short book with several distinct plot threads), a girl named Nyamé, called Nod, who assassinated Harrah for the Just, is assigned to kill Redhand and meets the Visitor, who is acting as Redhand’s secretary. He forces her to come with him to the edge of the world. And then there is Learned, brother of Redhand, a Gray who ascends to their highest position. And there is Sennred, Red Senlin’s Son’s brother. And—
Okay. Almost every named character has their own arc, and they all cross and intersect and collide over the novel’s course. This is actually its biggest flaw, because the names are so similar that it’s easy to forget who is related to whom, who is betraying whom, who’s in love with whom, and so on. But it’s also one of the novel’s biggest virtues, because half the fun is the sheer audacity of packing a Game of Thrones-sized conflict into just under two hundred pages.
The Deep is also quietly subversive of genre tropes. You might expect the Visitor to have some grand destiny: perhaps he’ll show these warring folk a more enlightened way, or become a savior archetype as in The Iron Giant. Instead, he has a different, more unsettling purpose. And Leviathan—why must the Visitor go meet him? And what is he? Whatever you expect, you’re probably wrong. And the messy, sprawling political conflict: in many ways, it’s as twisty and bloody and unexpected as those found in Game of Thrones—or in real life. Nobody has clean hands, and not everyone makes it out alive who should.
The strange thing about The Deep is that none of this should work, certainly not in the space allotted, and yet it all does, and it works in such a marvelously chilling, eerie way that even the flaws don’t matter when you come to the windy Edge of the World, and Leviathan’s great eye, like a second moon, rises from the Deep.
"The world is founded on a pillar which is founded on the Deep." This book was a gift, suggested to my wife by me, purely based on the cover, and it was a dissapointment. more fantasy that SF, which I am not into...
When I think of John Crowley, the word that comes to mind is 'awe'. He knows that magic comes from the suggestion of mystery, rather than its revelation. He deals in worlds larger than we can comprehend, where thresholds of knowability are never surpassed. At his best, he doesn't build worlds so much as discover them.
Take a step back, and 'The Deep' is a totally confounding creation. It takes place in a kingdom housed on a circular plane, and this plane is balanced atop of a pillar, and this pillar comes from an abyss called The Deep. Here, a legendary creature called The Leviathan wields a strange influence over the world; what role The Leviathan plays in the appearance of The Visitor--a genderless, human-like harbinger of a forgotten quest--will be revealed in time. Meanwhile however, a war wages between The Just (gun-wielding rebels) and The Protectors (a fractured nobility), but political instability between factions of The Protectors threatens to further complicate violence when an apparent coup d'etat leaves a vacuum of succession vulnerable for the scrutiny of warfare. It's all very layered. It's a John Crowley novel.
The ambitions of this short novel are epic; here we have a kernel of the themes and symbols Crowley will explore in his later, more developed fiction, pressed tightly into a tough piece of fairly inscrutable stone. His omissions of detail seem almost Shakespearean--battles are mentioned, though rarely observed first hand, and the complicated relations of characters are left somewhat sketched, as though the novel should come with a larger volume of history as a guide. This makes the world itself, and its potential, somewhat unrealized, as he ends on a note of cosmic--and therefore ambiguous-- anticipation. Though it doesn't completely work here, I couldn't help but love the strangeness of it all.
This reads kind of like an exorcise, a self-set task to see if the author is up to the job. This being Crowley, the truth of the matter has been emphatically proven. And the promise is evident - some of the writing in TD is rather haunting, the characters are nuanced, the setting subtly bizarre.
But it is also evident that this is a first novel. There is less ambiguity and more confusion; and it perhaps tries too hard. Is it Fantasy? It certainly has many of the associated tropes, what with medieval warring factions, castles, even a little prophetic magic. But there are also made beings falling from the skies in silver eggs; there are Guns; there is the world itself, seemingly artificially constructed with a deliberately constrained population level. So it may be SF. I have nothing against genre-crossing, but here its just too vague, too up-in-the-air, as if bets are being hedged. The naming of principle characters is annoyingly similar, making it difficult to engage with any of them as, by the time you realise who is being described, the story has jumped somewhere else and the process must begin again - flow suffers.
TD is a worthy curiosity for the Crowley completest. I certainly do not regret reading it (there's too much promise in it for that), but neither could I call it a must read for the more general cognoscenti.
This is a small book, basically a novella, but it took me twice as long to read as another book of similar length. The reasons are as follows> 1. The language is very dense- the length of the book necessitates much to be said in as few words as possible 2.Characters have similar sounding names, leading to confusion 3. The reader is never told what is the purpose of The Visitor .
I was left very much with the sense that I had understood very little of the book, apart of the circular manner in which history seems to repeat itself. But what was the purpose of the Visitor?? Still no clearer
A weird witch's brew of Gormenghast, Game of Thrones, Book of the New Sun, and Stranger in a Strange Land. Factional intrigue in a strange, timeless otherworld.
John Crowley's 1975 debut novel "The Deep" feels just a bit *off.* Ostensibly it's about factional infighting between the "Reds" and "Blacks" for power in a single, essentially high medieval, island kingdom. There are no other kingdoms or countries, and the kingdom is described as being a flat disc resting atop a giant pillar surrounded by sea (the titular Deep). Beyond the edge is the unknown and unknowable Outward.
We mostly learn this from the POV of the first character we meet: The Visitor. Who crash lands in the kingdom from space in a giant egg. He is pale, bald, ageless, sexless, and insists he was not born but rather "made."
Like I said, weird.
The parallels to England's War of the Roses/Game of Thrones are fairly obvious, but unfortunately, none of the characters or characterizations are distinct enough to be memorable/engaging. This is largely a function nearly every character having some variation of the word "red" in their name (Redhand, Old Redhand, Red Senlin, Caredd, Fauconred, etc) and Crowley's rather blurry/vague descriptions.
The other plot of the Visitor is inherently more interesting as he's clearly an "other," so discovering this strange world through his eyes is more immediately rewarding than power plays without character or context. As we learn more (but not too much) about the Visitor, his faulty memory, and his ultimate quest to meet, and speak to, the mythical "Leviathan" whose tail encircles the pillar on which the world sits, the world of The Deep becomes inherently more interesting than its characters.
Make no mistake, the WORLD here, as described beautifully by Crowley, is the star. There's some beautiful writing that really drives home the "otherness" of the entire endeavor, and despite some relatively weak/ill-defined characters, The Deep is a really fine slice of weird.
Mixed feelings about this. The telling of the story is beautiful—poetic and evocative. The world itself is richly detailed for such a short book (171 pages). The plot is a swirl of medieval intrigue, betrayals, and battles, which I find confusing and uninteresting: that's not my sort of thing, so I don't pay enough attention to sort out the intricacies. Or those characters aren't rendered in a way to make me care enough about them. It may be better on re-reading, now that I know where it's going and what to pay attention to.
I think it took me three attempts to get through this rather short book. It's very interesting, but a little bit confusing due to the very similar character names and the political intrigue rampant throughout. It seems like a book I should love, but I just come away with a meh reaction. Maybe I'll give it another shot sometime.
This book is a mess. But this book is also kind of great.
I love the setting and worldbuilding Crowley did on this one, I also love his prose, i think it's really nice most of the time. Characters are surprisingly good for such a short novel, but my god... What are those names?
Why do I say this novel is a mess then? Well, shit just constantly happens. Things that maybe should've deserved more page time sometimes happen out of nowhere or in the span of a single page or even a single paragraph. Leading you to not care as much as you could've about what's going on.
I think this medieval world (let's just call it that to simplify it) was a huge influence for GRRM to later write his own medieval political struggles between Starks and Lannisters, Reds and Blacks.
The Deep is John Crowley's first novel and doesn't necessarily show the same level of control and evocation of later works, even Engine Summer. There are plenty of layers and ambiguities (mmm delicious ambiguities), but overall effect was more intellectual than experiential for me.
It became clear pretty early on that the court intrigue and war history plot, which appears to be the main plot, is intentionally obfuscating. All the characters have the same names (when King Red Senlin dies, his son “Red Senlin's Son ascends to the throne) and the root of conflict between the two factions is a string of betrayals and backstabs that is just not worth trying to follow. Like the world itself, history in The Deep is inherently circular (time is a flat circle), a series of preordained patterns that defy the efforts of individuals to break them.
This could be an interesting thing, and the characters are developed much better than genre fiction, but it's hard to shake the impression that everything that happens to them is inherently and intentionally meaningless and repetitive and bland (if tragic). The Visitor, a mysterious alien robot, is meant to be the unique throughline of the book, a fairly pure reader stand-in. He doesn't have much time on screen, and his main function is to prompt the ending exposition about the nature of The Deep's world.
The Deep is conceptually interesting; its narrative conceit, is far more creative and subtle than any fantasy book of its ilk. The execution could have been better, though. Knowing they're intentional, part of a point, and pretty damn subtle things for an author to do, doesn't make the obscure, non-engaging plot and constant character mixups particularly enjoyable to read. Even the central concept itself falls a bit flat without a real tangible shock of recognition. The Deep is impressive in its way, and prefigures Crowley's later masterworks, but isn't one of them.
Rating: Closer to a 4.5/5, but Goodreads only goes by whole stars.
The Deep was something of a blind-buy for me-- I was familiar with Crowley's name, but none of his books or his writing tendencies. A lot of fellow Gene Wolfe fans seem to enjoy his work, so that was reason enough for me to give it a shot.
The Deep is, more or less, a reimagining of The War of the Roses, centering on warring factions, in this case the 'Reds' and the 'Blacks', in a time and place that's minimally and often disorientingly described. The distinct element here that brings it into the realm of speculative fiction however, is a character simply referred to as "The Visitor" a vaguely artificial, sexless, featureless amnesiac, who crashed from the heavens in an egg-like pod. The Visitor gets to know the people of the world and learns from them... and in the process, learns of itself and why it's here. As the novel comes to a close, the Visitor's purpose becomes more bizarre and ambiguously sinister.
It's a novel that isn't exactly concerned with worldbuilding in the way that most sci-fi and fantasy novels are. This isn't to say that there's none of it, there's enough detail to give the reader an idea of the world and its culture... but like Wolfe's work, the main driving force is Crowley's clever, enrapturing, sometimes archaic prose, strange genre-bending concepts and thoughtful commentary on the darker side of human nature. It can be a bit difficult to get into at first, with a large cast of characters whose names are derivative of their faction colors (Redhand, Red Senlin, Fauconred, etc), but as a debut novel, it's pretty fantastic and I haven't read anything quite like it.
Akin to Roger Zelazny's renowned Lord of Light, The Deep is a novel that muddles the thin line between science fiction and fantasy. It also reminds me of the Strugatsky brothers' Hard to be a God, in which an agent from a hyper-advanced civilization is sent to a distant planet to oversee a feudal society. However, contrary to the Strugatsky brothers' philosophical musings, John Crowley takes inspiration from the War of Roses and pens an epic tale of bloodshed, betrayal, power struggle, and Machiavellian machinations in fewer than 200 pages. Yes, imagine Game of Thrones told in 200 pages. To accomplish this, Crowley uses dense language, filled with symbolism and whimsical imagery. The characters' names are similar and indeed confusing at first, but perhaps that is the point. The cyclical nature of their rise and fall seems to echo human history itself, and the mysterious Visitor appears to be an envoy of God.
A challenging book which has its own unique beauty.
In a world very different from ours, two powerful factions fight for the throne. Alliances are made and shattered. Vows are sworn and broken. Brothers betray brothers; fathers betray sons; kings are imprisoned and queens make war. No, it’s not A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE. It’s The Deep, by John Crowley, published in 1975.
The Deep is Crowley’s first novel. It is unlike his other works, although certain themes come back into play in the AEGYPT QUARTET. At first it seems like it is based on the Wars of the Roses, but Crowley has said in interviews that he was inspired by the short reign of King Edward II.
I loved this novel. As others have said, it is quite dense, and the names can be confusing if you don't make an effort to differentiate them and the characters in your head. The tone, the prose and the combination of sci-fi and fantasy themes made this a very absorbing read for me. The layers of myths and histories building on top of each other felt very true to life, as did the variations on gender and sexuality. Although a lot of plot and character information is elided or omitted, and although the characters are more or less aware they they are archetypes in their world, there was depth enough to spark my imagination. This is the first book I have read by Crowley, and I'm excited to read everything else I can get my hands on. This book should be much more widely known.
I actually gave up on this book in 20 pages but I am not sure why (?) Very fantasy feel, not sci-fi, yes it is sci-fi fantasy but....the list of characters annoyed me at the beginning, like ye olde players in a play (ahem), type thing. I just don't know, must think on it. I am not interested in struggling through something even when it is much lauded or even deemed 'worthy' or is an award winner - there are simply too many books out there to plough through one you do not enjoy or doesn't 'capture' you in at least some small way. I dunno, maybe am stoopid, maybe book um good if Ugg give it chance....
In einem Königreich von seltsamer geometrischer Form kämpfen die Roten und die Schwarzen um die Vorherrschaft. Nach einer Schlacht retten die Endweiber einen seltsamen, geschlechtslosen Fremden, den "Besucher". Er hat sein Gedächtnis verloren. Der Rote Fauconrot nimmt sich seiner an.
Erstling von John Crowley, eine eigenwillige Art Fantasy, die auch SF-Elemente enthält. Die Handlung macht ständig seltsame Sprünge von Person zu Person, man kommt den Protagonisten aber nicht wirklich näher, sie bleiben einem egal. Der Stil ist kompliziert, ich empfinde ihn als eckig, unelegant und mühsam. Ich bemühe mich vergebens, in die Story reinzukommen. Abgebrochen auf S. 62 von 190
One user reviews this work with the single word "stylish". And you can't say much more than that. This book shows a great potential, good style, strong imagination, fascinatingly dark world, but behind its style, it lacks some substance. As though it were reaching for more than it could ever hold, the ideas seem lost in the language and, ultimately, nothing is resolved. Knowing this is his first novel, I could be enticed to read more to see how his skills develop, but I would not rush out to recommend this as a brilliant work of literature.
I read this because I loved Little Big. Like Little Big, The Deep unfolds slowly, and the central teleological/cosmological mystery of the book is never fully revealed. I enjoy the work of trying to imagine what it all means, but I enjoyed it a little less for The Deep. I found myself more interested in the side characters than the main characters, and when I got a glimpse of the big meaning near the end of the book, it was too fantastical for me to feel moved by it. It was a great story, but I'm afraid I was spoiled by Little Big.