The Malacia Tapestry

by Brian W. Aldiss

1st edition Ace 1978 paperback, vg+ In stock shipped from our UK warehouse

Genres: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fiction, Alternate History, Collections, Science Fiction Fantasy, Speculative Fiction

Paperback

First published January 1, 1976

About the author

Pseudonyms: Jael Cracken, Peter Pica, John Runciman, C.C. Shackleton, Arch Mendicant, & "Doc" Peristyle.

Brian Wilson Aldiss was one of the most important voices in science fiction writing today. He wrote his first novel while working as a bookseller in Oxford. Shortly afterwards he wrote his first work of science fiction and soon gained international recognition. Adored for his innovative literary techniques, evocative plots and irresistible characters, he became a Grand Master of Science Fiction in 1999.
Brian Aldiss died on August 19, 2017, just after celebrating his 92nd birthday with his family and closest friends.

Brian W. Aldiss Group on Good Reads

Reviews

[Algernon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Charmed Malacia! In the wilderness beyond its fortress walls, in dreary chasm, tangled forest, or endless mountainside, the forces of many kinds of evil struggled for supremacy. Within our winding streets serenity seemed to prevail.

"seemed" is the key word in this brief introduction to the marvellous Renascentist city of Malacia. Indeed, at first glance, following the lovable young rascal Perian de Chirolo down its winding alleys, the city is full of vibrant colours and exotic characters, bursting at the seams with life and the promise of adventure.

"My horoscope isn't profitable today. There's women in it, but not just yet apparently. Saturn is proving difficult, while all the entrails are against me."
"I'm too hard-up even to get my amulet blessed by Throat Dark."
"It's marvellous not to be troubled by money."

In the company of his best friend Guy de Lambant, another out-of-work young actor, Perian is in search of gainful employment, of romance and of a good meal, or any meal at all. At a street corner, a ragged alchemist ( The crannies of Malacia held as many magicians and astrologers as spiders. ) promises that Guy's luck will change, and pretty soon de Lambant finds a leading role in a new play and falls in love with the prettiest girl in town, a rich heiress from a powerful political family named Armida.

Underneath the glitter and the witty repartee Malacia is rife with corruption. The city's wealth and decadent lifestyle are guaranteed by its magical defensive walls and by its secretive leaders that deal swiftly and harshly with any potential dissenters.

The immemorial duty of the Supreme Council was to protect Malacia from change.

also, The original magician's curse on Malacia was that it would never change.

An image that remains unchanged over the centuries? Sounds like a tapestry to me, or like a primordial insect caught in amber. Two young men (Perian and Guy) bring two young lovely girls (Armida and Bedalar)in the hills over the city, to gaze at the sunset and, why not, for a bit of illicit love making. Their eyes see more than they planned though:

"Somebody told me that Satan has decided to close the world down, and the magicians have agreed. What would happen wouldn't be unpleasant at all, but just ordinary life going on more and more slowly until it stopped absolutely."
"Like a clock stopping."
"More like a tapestry. I mean, one day like today, things might run down and never move again, so that we and everything would hang there like a tapestry in the air for ever more."

—«»—«»—«»—

Brian Aldiss was a prolific author, and among so many excellent short stories and novels, Malacia receives less attention than I think it deserves. Like one of the tapestries mentioned above, the story is rich in detail and intricate in plot, with ambitious metaphors about art, metaphysics, love and politics slowing the pace considerably and dissapointing potential readers who saw initially only the cover with a brave knight, a damsel in distress and a fiery dinosaur. The fantasy stuff is actually part of the story, but not really the most important one. Ordinary life, and the tribulations of an ordinary young man trying to make sense of the world around him and of his personal feelings, are what Malacia is truly about, with actual plot more of an afterthought in the plans of the author.

You must hope and despair, reform and sin, triumph and fail. How else do we live our duality of spirit? Now you will learn the additional curse of knowledge – it will gain you no wisdom – it will only make more painful what you hitherto enjoyed through ignorance.

I would have probably have rated this story a poor two stars, had I read it back in my own youth, right after I discovered Aldiss through Helliconia. I am tempted to give it all five stars, now that I am myself cursed with knowledge of life's twists and turns and of its inherent duality of beauty and pain. With the ton of additional books I've read between Helliconia and today, I see Malacia as a sort of Jack Vance meets James Branch Cabell, by way of Commedia dell'Arte.

There is unity in all things, and duality. We live physically in a fine city; we also live in a forest of dark beliefs. This day, you are granted an occasion to rise above them both.

Perian de Chirolo actually takes a ride above the city in a hot air balloon, an occassion for the poet in Aldiss to take his metaphors one step further and shed new light on his already complex tapestry. Besieging armies, ancestral beasts, tyrants and satyrs, actors and priests, fair maids and hookers disport themselves for our amusement. History repeats itself in the timeless battle between change and tradition, with Perian forced to make a choice between his innocence and his intelligence. His role in the ancient / new play put on stage by the revolutionary Bengtsohn oddly reflects his own tribulations in the pursuit of the beautiful Armida.

Surely one's interest in the play is precisely that it might have been written a million years ago. Some things are eternal and must be eternally re-expressed. Those desperate straits of love, which Bengtsohn effectively conveys, appeal to us because they apply as much today as yesterday.

How will the play end? Will love triumph over all obstacles? Will the impregnable walls of Malacia fall down to usher in a new Age of Reason? Will friendship survive the test of jealousy? Who cares? I am grateful for the journey and for the magic pen of Brian Aldiss who was able to conjure once again for me angels and demons on the silver screen of my imagination.

Our Shadow Figures, with their mimic strife,
They are but to Amuse, or chase your Care,
And beg Indulgence from your Phantoms there,
Within the greater Raree-show of Life.

From Orient and Far Cathay come they.
Even like you, Someone behind the Screen
Controls their Acts – so think, when you have seen,
Your Life like theirs is but a Shadow Play!

—«»—«»—«»—

Extras:

Art and life, fact and fiction, are linked transcriptions of each other

- - - - -

You don't want a lecture on the differences between the Natural and the Higher Religions. They are opposed but allied, as evening mingles with dawn in our blood. They agree that God, or the Power of Light, is an intruder in this universe; the fundamental difference is that adherents of the Natural Religion believe that humanity should side with Satan, since God can never win; whereas we of the Higher Religion believe that God can triumph in the great battle, provided that human beings fight on his side rather than Satan's.

- - - - -

About an artisan, a sort of glass-miniaturist in the Murano tradition: Bledlore works obsessively for a pittance, barely supporting himself and his old wife. Why does he do it? My theory is that he feels Time – and Dust, the advance patrol of Time – as well as its rearguard – to be against him. So he builds tiny monuments to himself in the only way he knows, much like the coral insect whose anonymous life create islands. Time makes Master Bledsore secrete Art. What algebraist ever found a harsher formula than that? [...] Time is one of those big questions, hanging at our door like an unsettled bill.

- - - - -

You think me unscrupulous and vain, but at least I always trust my friends. It's a duty to do so, at least until they prove false. Better to be duped occasionally than to be suspicious always.

- - - - -

Every day of my life, I am in love. Women are so beautiful, so agreeable, how could it be otherwise?

[Terry · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book shouldn’t work. And sometimes it doesn’t. It has issues with bloat and pacing and the plot on occasion meanders, though this latter is mainly due to the picaresque nature of the tale itself, so is perhaps not really a fault. I’m generally not a fan of the picaresque, but this novel has so many great scenes, a handful of great characters, and enough vibrant atmosphere that it has managed to find a place of deep affection in my heart at the same time that it doesn’t quite work for me.

_The Malacia Tapestry_ holds a central place for me in a genre I think ought to be called “urban fantasy” since that’s really what it is: fantasy primarily concerned with the urban landscape and its unique issues and characteristics (other examples would include Thunderer, Perdido Street Station, and Jeff VanderMeers’ “Ambergris” books). Unfortunately that label has already been manhandled away and seems to apply to fantasy books in a modern setting which usually have to do with hip, magical private eyes having sex with vampires and werewolves. Anyway….Aldiss’ tome is set in a parallel universe where it appears that humans have evolved from dinosaurs, which they still keep as pets and takes place in the environs of the city of Malacia, a location very much modelled on a Renaissance Italian city-state. Our main character is Perian de Chirolo, an unemployed actor, cad and all-around party-boy who drifts aimlessly from one situation to another in search of money, sex, and amusement (not necessarily in that order). As Perian’s misadventures progress he finds himself pulled into a political conspiracy and ultimate danger by the twin motivations of money and love.

We have a central focus for the story in the character of Perian and he is certainly (I think at least) a likable rogue even when he shows us his less than admirable side. He grows as the story progresses and learns some valuable lessons about both love and realpolitik from the school of hard knocks. From being a vain, self-absorbed dilettante Perian becomes a wounded martyr for both love and politics. Despite this central focus, the story can still seem somewhat scattershot due to the meandering plot and several points where it slows down dramatically. For me the real draw of this novel lies in two main areas: the wonderful prose Aldiss uses in building the city of Malacia for the reader, and the sparkle of several of the characters. I was immediately plunged into the world of Malacia upon reading:

Smoke was drifting through my high window, obscuring the light. Something was added to the usual aromas of Stary Most. Among the flavours of freshcut timber, spices, cooking, gutters, and the incense from the corner wizard, Throat Dark, floated the smell of wood-smoke. Perhaps the sawdust-seller had set fire to his load again. Going to my casement, I looked down into the street, which was more crowded than usual for this hour of day. The gongfermors and their carts had disappeared, but the Street of the Wood Carvers was jostling with early traffic, including among its habitual denizens a number of porters, beggars, and general hangers-on; they were doing their best either to impede or to further the progress of six burly orientals, all wearing turbans, all accompanied by lizard-boys bearing canopies over them — the latter intended as much to provide distinction as shade, since the summer sun had little force as yet. The smoke was rising from the sweepings of an ash-merchant, busily burning the street's rubbish. One good noseful of it and I withdrew my head.

If you do not feel yourself immersed in the world of Malacia after that, and wish to plumb its depths and walk its streets, then I don’t know if there is much else that I can say.

Perian himself, who tells us his tale in candid first person, is a charming rogue. He has a discerning eye, though it does seem to restrict itself to surfaces (a fact he will grow to rue as the story progresses). He introduces his best friend thusly:

We strolled along in good humour. His doublet, I thought, was not a shade of green to be greatly excited about; it made him look too much the player. Yet Guy de Lambant was a handsome fellow enough. He had a dark, quick eye and eyebrows as sharp and witty as his tongue could be. He was sturdily built, and walked with quite a swagger when he remembered to do so. As an actor he was effective, it had to be admitted, although he lacked my dedication. His character was all one could wish for in a friend: amusing, idle, vain and dissolute, ready for any mischief. The two of us were always cheerful when together, as many ladies of Malacia would vouch.

The mysterious and paranoid Otto Bengtsohn, half crackpot inventor and half crackpot radical, is another wonderfully painted character:

'Excuse me, I was not about to ask for favours but to offer one.' He pulled the jacket about him with dignity, cuddling his box for greater comfort. 'My name, young sir, is called Otto Bengtsohn. I am not from Malacia but from Tolkhorm at the north, from which particular adversities what afflict the poor and make their lives a curse have drove me since some years. My belief is that only the poor will help the poor. Accordingly, I wish for to offer you work, if you are free.'

The long and the short of it is that on a lark Perian agrees to work for Bengtsohn who is attempting to perfect the artistic process for his mysterious zahnoscope. The fact that a beautiful noblewoman is involved certainly doesn’t dissuade Perian from jumping in with both feet. It is here that his problems begin. Malacia is a city that has outlawed all change and Bengtsohn is a man adamant to bring change about. Caught in the middle, Perian is bound for catastrophe. Perian’s illusions, about both himself and others, are about to be shattered and that’s never a painless process, however necessary it may be. For the majority of Aldiss’ prose and his characterization of both the city and its inhabitants I give the book four stars, for the bloat and meandering that too often takes us off track I have to remove at least one.

If you like atmosphere, intrigue, and mannered prose (and aren’t too put out by some slow pacing), then I recommend giving this book a try.

[Richard Derus · Rating 4 out of 5]

I USED SWEETIENUBBINS' YULE GIFT CARD ON A SALE FOR THIS LOVELY TREAT. THANK YOU.

My Review: A hangover from The 1976 Club, I had this tee’d up on my Kindle to give myself a bit of backup in case I really hated my chosen title, WOMAN ON THE EDGE OF TIME, and needed to abandon ship. I didn’t like that read too terribly much, but it wasn’t so awful I had to Pearl-Rule it. This book, as a back-up choice, would’ve fared about the same.

I don’t hate it; I’m as drawn to the fantasy of a medieval Balkan city trapped in Time by powerful forces that aren’t christian in the way of our world as I ever was. The existence of Ottomans (a very real branch of the Turkic peoples of Central Asia) doesn’t necessarily mean they’re Muslim…and I didn’t specifically notice but am pretty sure we’re not really made privy to their religious beliefs. (If no christians, then no Muslims.)

I’d forgotten a lot of my skills at navigating heteronormativity. Forty-five years on, living in a world where even the slow-moving laws of the land now recognize my right to marry anyone I choose to, I’d completely forgotten how it feels to have to insert myself into straight stories without recourse to my real home. There are oodles of SF/fantasy stories with men who love men in them now. I don’t *have* to come to the straight-people’s table to get a scrap grudgingly thrown!

And that was worth three stars to me. I’m clear now about how very, very much my world has changed. The flipside of that is I’m also clear on how awful it is for bigots and small-souled withholders to live in this more accepting and generous world…why they’re fighting so hard to close the floodgates that were opened very much against their wishes and desires. It is, after all, Author Aldiss’s primary thesis. The great and the good of Malacia have, in concert with the rest of this not-our-Earth, stopped Progress since they can’t stop Time. My half-formed hypothesis is that (fictional) Malacia and its Byzantium and Duchy of Tuscady and so on are in exact parallel with 1976…just on a different Earth in a Multiverse. Not being a Copenhagenist about matters quantum, I’m pretty sure that’s Reality.

If you need any further evidence for my hypothesis, there’s the continuing existence of dinosaurs aka “ancestral animals” and the presence of actual half-human, half-goat satyrs. But tech is stalled in the sixteenth-ish century, and has been for quite a long time if the internal chat is to be credited:

“Perian thinks the story banal, Papa,” Armida said, flashing me a glance I could not interpret. “He says it might as well have been written a million years ago.”

“An interesting remark. Surely one’s interest in the play is precisely that it might have been written a million years ago. Some things are eternal and must be eternally re-expressed. Those desperate straits of love…appeal to us because they apply as much today as yesterday.”

It is absolutely no surprise at all, having read that…peroration…to learn that Author Aldiss describes the speaker, a nobleman of Malacia, as speaking with “...words {of} a dry quality, as if his mouth had developed a prejudice against saliva.” Oh myyyy, as Takei would say.

The tale’s a solidly crafted one. It is, I confess, a bit of the read’s pleasure that it rides the rails already laid down by generations of tale-tellers gone before. What I enjoyed was the worldly setting, the worldbuilding that Author Aldiss chose. His zahnoscope, that not-quite-daguerreotype means of photography…do pardon, mercurization...described in it outlines so the reader can see in their own eye the end results. The careful and wordy descriptions of clothing…after all, a first-person story told by an actor would dwell on surfaces and details!...the same with the ceremonies, the hurly-burly of Malacian life, the small and immediate circle of roving player Perian de Chirolo’s eyesight. It also establishes reasons for Author Aldiss to make snide remarks like the director of the story being told in the new photographic process “moving us about like chairs” and Armida, his love-light, being snappish with his faithless self so he observes, “We bit our tongues—being unable to bite each other’s…”. That’s the fourth star right there.

Then the lumpen-ness endemic to Aldiss's expository writing obtrudes.

”Beware of all things fair, my son, whether a girl or a friend. What looks to be fair may be foul under the surface. The Devil needs his traps. You should regard also you own behaviour, lest it seem fair to you but is really an excuse for foulness.” And so on.

That last is Perian making it plain Author Aldiss knows he’s moralizing and in a tiresome way…a suitable ironic distancing from the fact that he means it. How can I say that with such certainty? Because this is merely the first iteration of the same “shiny surfaces do not cover great depths” message. The second, more beefily stodgy, is the plot of the play that Perian and his Armida are part of in this new mercurization zahnoscope technology: It is literally, beat for beat, the plot of the book we’re reading. You’d have to be insentient not to Get It.

Therein the lack of that fifth star. While I agree with the reviews of the time that this is a good entertaining story, I don’t think…and didn’t then, because of my lack of memory of anything except the broadest strokes of it…that this is a Great Work, a Classic of the Field.

Good read, though.

[mark monday · Rating 3 out of 5]

read during my Social Work Years

I Remember: an elaborate little trifle set in some kind of alternate Renaissance Italy... a lively city, a fading city, a city on the rise?... ornate writing style, beautiful details, it's all quite luscious... an extremely shallow hero within an extremely shallow narrative... some wonderful set pieces... very Jack Vance... there is something almost bull-headed in this novel's insistence on being a well-written bit of airy material, with no deeper meaning that i can find... Dinosaur Worship!... wow, did you know that we are actually descended from reptiles?... i guess this is why it is set in an "alternate" Italy.

[Neale · Rating 3 out of 5]

Aldiss’s baroque Italianate fantasia, ‘The Malacia Tapestry’, overflows with invention and strangeness. It creates a unique world based on Renaissance culture and politics, minus the Catholic Church, incorporating magic and the supernatural, fantastical creatures and even an appearance by the Gods themselves. The actor-hero, the wonderfully named Perian de Chirolo, begins as a rogue and parasite, like a character from Machiavelli’s ‘Mandragola’, but finds himself drawn into higher and darker adventures.

Unfortunately Aldiss, while a writer profligate with ideas, is no great stylist. His prose often struggles to convey the richness of the material - although he works hard at it, and the cumulative effect is by no means unimpressive. Comparisons that inevitably arise to other writers of the fantastic – Fritz Leiber, Jack Vance, Michael Moorcock – are rarely to Aldiss’s advantage. Compared to them he seems a bit prosaic. In particular his attempts at eroticism come off as clumsy.

In his long and prolific career Aldiss has essayed many styles. This book was his only attempt at fantasy, and while it isn’t entirely successful it remains a rather wonderful curiosity, and I am glad that he wrote it.

[J.J. Garza · Rating 3 out of 5]

No suelo poner medias estrellas, pero para propósitos de El Tapiz de Malacia, ésta es un 3.5.

Hay ciertos nichos en fantasía que son poco explorados. Uno de ellos (y uno de mis favoritos) es el que cambia la ya no tan usual ambientación en la Inglaterra medieval por la Italia medieval o renacentista. Tigana es un triunfo absoluto y lírico, y Las Mentiras de Locke Lamora representan una de las más electrizantes y energéticas muestras de la fantasía contemporánea. El Tapiz de Malacia, del prolífico Brian Aldiss, fue la primera de estas fantasías, y me temo que no llega tan cerca de los dos ejemplos posteriores.

Efectivamente hay una muestra de la habilidad de Aldiss (más bien un escritor de ciencia ficción antes que de fantasía) para llevarnos por un mundo fantástico chapado completamente a la antigua. Aquí nos hallamos (como en La Princesa Prometida y como en la tradición clásica de la novela de caballerías) con la imagen de una Europa atemporal y anacrónica. Los turcos son una amenaza, se menciona a las tierras del Orinoco y a Ragusa (el Dubrovink que la hace de Desembarco del Rey, señores), las menciones al la cultura grecolatina están por todas partes y en un guiño obvio, hay una tierra al norte llamada Tolkhorm. Además, es una fantasía que nos demuestra que la idea de dinosaurios conviviendo con humanos en un contexto fantástico no es una idea ni novel ni descabellada: aquí los humanos descienden de las ‘antiguas bestias’, hay humanos-medio-reptiles e incluso humanos con alas. Muy al estilo de cierta canción de Kabah.

Nuestro protagonista, Perian de Chirolo, es el auténtico pícaro que sin un clavo en el bolsillo se dedica a tirarse a cuanta dama se deje. Y en general es un pícaro muy bien hecho: buena parte de mi pleito con la fantasía actual es de tono. Muchos de los autores contemporáneos (especialmente Lynch, Sanderson y Rothfuss) tienen una tendencia exagerada a que sus personajes se comporten como piensan (pensamos) los geeks de hoy y a ser sarcásticos y manejar el wordplay como si hubieran nacido en este tiempo y esta era. En la ficción especulativa de antaño no era así, y los personajes de esta novela lo demuestran bien. Ese sentido picaresco de donosura aún siendo bribones y de actitudes sociales que con toda delicadeza tratan de temas por demás prosaicos. Aquí el gran acierto de la novela.

Pero con todo, hay algo como que no termina de cuajar. Me pareció que tiene todos los elementos para triunfar (o para haberse convertido en un clásico y no en una novela del montón entre el larguísimo canon de Aldiss) pero no lo logra. Puede deberse a que la trama se atora especialmente cuando surgen las discusiones filosóficas entre los personajes: que si esto o aquello es decadente, que si el artista esto o lo otro, que si el amor. Ninguna relevante y todas arrastrando la trama que tiene grandes momentos (pista: son parecidos a los de Jurassic Park). Tampoco es tan obvio en su intento: la estructura de los personajes representando una obra que al final se cumple en sus vidas es brillante, pero uno tiene que poner mucha atención para ver qué pretende Aldiss fuera de la estructura. Mi mejor adivinanza: que una tragedia sublime es imposible en un mundo aburguesado.

Entonces, ¿recomendable? La respuesta depende de si el lector está acostumbrado a la fantasía antigua. Si es de los que le baja estrellas al Señor de los Anillos por considerarla lenta y en cambio se puede aventar un tocho de 1000 páginas de Patrick Rothfuss sin problema, entonces no va a poder con esta novela. Caso contrario, si ha leído los venerables nombres de Peake y Moorcock y Leiber y Vance y demás, entonces adelante.

[Austin Bruce Hallock · Rating 2 out of 5]

Well, I persisted through more than half this book and finally gave up because no real plot seemed to be emerging and I just lost interest. I would have quit sooner, but I've always been impressed with Brian Aldiss's writing, and the quality of the writing was evident here. Nevertheless I can only continue for so long with little or nothing happening.

[EmBe · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ich habe festgestellt, dass Brian W. Aldiss der Autor ist, von dem ich die meisten Bücher gelesen habe, sieht man von den Autoren und Autorinnen ab, die an den Perry Rhodan-Serien mitschreiben. Ich habe noch mehr in der Bibliothek stehen, aber nur wenig für Goodreads besprochen. Das möchte ich ändern.
Angesiedelt in eine Alternativ-Universum, in dem es neben den Menschen noch Echsenmenschen gibt, und das in einer reichen Handelsstadt am Mittelmeer spielt. Die Zeit entspricht der Renaissance. Die Stadt wird von einem Rat beherrscht, der sich gegen jede Art von Veränderung stemmt.
Held ist ein Jüngling namens Peiran de Chirolo, der seine Geschichte auch selbst erzählt. Er ist von niederer Herkunft, ist Schauspieler und kommt aber mit höheren Kreisen in Kontakt, als er bei einem Überfall auf ein Kutsche den Angreifer vertreibt. In der Kutsche sitzt auch die schöne junge Kaufmannstochter Armida Hoytola, mit der eine Liaison anfängt. Er träumt davon, gesellschaftlich aufzusteigen. Aber er gerät ins Räderwerk der Politik. Der Roman ist auch so etwas wie eine Coming of Age Erzählung.
Die Komplexität wird gesteigert, das es auch ein Schauspiel im Roman gibt.
Der Roman ist von einer Leichtigkeit und Humor geprägt, entsprechend dem unbekümmerten Jüngling. Mit zum Genuss tragen auch die erotischen Szenen bei, denn der Jüngling ist auch ein Weiberheld.
Der Roman ist so bedeutend, dass er einen eigenen Wikipedia-Eintrag hat.

[Alien · Rating 3 out of 5]

This novel plays in an alternative world of Rennaissance level where there are still dinosaurs (that don't play an important role though). It is the story of Perian, a young, handsome man from a good but impoverished house.

It has a nice ironic undertone and a refined style.
The author obvioulsy loves the world that he created. The world building is really quite good.

The protagonists hang about in the city, philosophize about this and that, joke around, get it on.

This was amusing at first, but after a while I started wishing for a little more plot development. Some glimpse of greater things to come.
But it went on like this till the end, only interrupted by some short bursts of action.
So it left me a little dissatisfied in the end. 3.5/5

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Until you have understanding of your nature, your errors — like the errors of history — repeat and repeat themselves in an endless fiction. That is the only knowledge there is.”

Picaresque, decadent, fantastical, political, dualistic — The Malacian Tapestry lives up to all of these aspects and more. As in the title of the dumb show, the staging of which threads its way through the novel, this novel is a 'Joyous Tragedy' featuring intrigue and betrayal, love and hate, progressives and repressives, apotheosis and degradation.

Above all, its actors appear to be woven into a metaphysical tapestry which, in the opinion of one of the characters, is “presumably for the edification of the gods, who could then inspect us without interference.” Or, as a modern lyricist wrote, “Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know | He’s in the best selling show.”

In this rococo novel Brian Aldiss weaves a splendid tapestry for our edification, interlacing philosophy and art as viewed through the self-centred eyes of its coxcomb narrator: drama, mime, fantoccini theatre, shadow-puppetry and rituals vie with love, lust, licentiousness for the attention of our greedy eyes. But, master magician that he is, Aldiss casts a spell so beguiling that we’re prepared to believe in sorcerers and astrologers, in mythical and prehistoric beasts, in a corrupt city state of unknown antiquity and in inhabitants with a touch of the reptilian about them.

Perian de Chirolo, who narrates, is a young jobbing actor who also wants to play “the dashing, man-about-town”. He is a true picaro or rogue, happy to filch food, indefinitely delay payments of debts, talk in moral terms about honour while indulging in casual sex with other men’s girlfriends and wives. He is nevertheless an engaging narrator, seemingly aware of and sorry for his failings yet unable to exert himself, his spirit willing but his flesh weak.

On the surface then Aldiss’s picaresque novel with its selfish protagonist might not appear an overly attractive proposition, but it is the world that he and his contemporaries inhabit, and which he describes in great detail, that draws us in. The fantastical world of Malacia and its neighbours, which superficially resembles the 18th-century city-states of the Adriatic, is in many ways larger than life. There’s plague and there’s poverty, menace from Ottoman Turks and Bosnian heretics, a secretive and repressive regime — but there are also flighted people, satyrs and lizard people, humans who believe themselves descended from dinosaurs, living dinosaurs called ‘ancestrals’ and creatures such as a “chick-snake”, possibly related to our mythical basilisk.

Malacia’s world is, moreover, a place dominated by two very different paradigms. One is magic: astrologers and magicians populate the city’s streets, routinely consulted by Perian and his friends, and he experiences some terrifying visions which make him think he’s been targeted by some malign spells, but the situation is complicated by tugs-of-war between Natural Religion and a Higher Religion.

That conflict is paralleled in the class system that permeates Malacia’s society: the ruling class controls by inertia and a resistance to change, supposedly under the benign decision of Malacia’s founder to establish it as “a place of happiness”. The middle classes try to maintain a working relationship with the status quo, the Progressives of the desperate underclasses look to innovation as a way to break that truly malign and repressive monopoly on power. Needless to say Perian is inadvertently caught up in those conflicts, only to find himself in situations way over his head.

The Malacia Tapestry is a veritable narrative tour de force, depicting a vast sweep of life within just a few eventful months. We see the anachronistic invention of photography and a veritable fight with a dragon; we witness Perian’s bawdy adventures while the city under siege and marvel at gas balloon ascents; and we begin to understand that Perian has a lot to gain in the areas and self-knowledge and understanding. As one of his casual flings, La Singla, tells him, not long after his realisation that he isn’t living a charmed life like the hero of a fairytale, “You still have to distinguish between life and art, that’s all — yes, and between art and artifice.”

Like the callow romantic youth he remains he wants to believe the dictum of a friend that “Reality is so unpleasant” — it’s a belief shown by the persistence throughout the novel not just of dramatic narratives but also of the visual arts — tapestries themselves of course, the zahnoscope slides, etched images on glass, unfinished frescos, paintings in a garden pavilion, embroidered costumes, even a camera obscura — and of poetry and song. As the Malacian poet K G St Chentero wrote,

"But I know that there are gods behind the gods,
Gods that are best unsung."

Perian’s sister Katarina tells him at one point that she was “trying to imagine a land that no human eyes have seen.” This is what Aldiss has splendidly achieved which, I suppose, makes him one of the gods behind Malacia’s gods who is indeed unsung.

[Ron · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a well-crafted picaresque novel in a wonderful fantasy setting. It follows the adventures of Perian de Chirolo, a well-born but poverty-stricken underemployed actor, in and around Malacia, a city doomed, or blessed, to never change in any substantial way. As we follow Perian around the city we learn that what at first appears to be a typical Renaissance trading city is in truth much older and much stranger; Malacia is full of winged humans, lizard-people, ape-men, and things very much like dinosaurs which Aldiss calls "the Ancestral Beasts". Perian falls in love, finds novel work, makes passes at anything in skirts with varying degrees of success, betrays, is betrayed, becomes famous, is present at the first use of biological warfare, is nearly killed fighting an Ancestral Beast in front of his beloved, speculates on the nature of Art and Time, and in general is a merry guide to the wonders of the city.

[Kieran McAndrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

De Chirolo sees everything in the city state of Malacia as a grand expression of art, until life gets in the way.

Aldiss' obscure novel is indulgent and brings this extraordinary city to life. Readers should appreciate the chance to watch a writer exploring his amazing creation.

[blake · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings about Aldiss, as you can see from my three-star ratings of his other books. He's a fine writer, but comes across as morose, sort of depressive, the kind of post-50s optimism sci-fi writer that is much the reason I don't read a lot of post-50s sci-fi. Rather weirdly, this one kind of won me over.

It seems to take place on the shores of Turkey (300 miles from Byzantium, although sometimes it's called Constantinople) in-or-around the 17th century (long after Byzantium became Constantinople), although it also references having a history of many millennia. Our "hero" is a dissolute actor who is approached to star in what appears to be a slide show, a sort of proto-movie—indeed a novel thing for the time—which has the potential to run afoul of the city's elders, whose job it is to make sure that nothing ever changes in Malacia.

Then it seems as though the people in this world (which increasingly seems Italian) are descended from dinosaurs. And there are still some dinosaurs afoot. As well as satyrs, flying people, lizardmen...and also invading turks and hot-air balloons (the latter being a potentially revolutionary issue). Oh, and Progressives. There are Progressives plotting the overthrow of the ruling class.

There are magicians everywhere though no apparent magic—they mostly do horoscopes—and two religions which appear to be Gnosticism-without-Christianity and Manicheanism-without-Zoroastrianism. There is one trippy scene where an actual wish seems to be granted, but it's not apparent that any magic is involved (though the wish comes true, it's ultimately a rather banal one).

This is, ultimately, a 400 page slice-of-life book about a place that never existed and a main character who is dubiously likable at best. Nothing about it really drove me to keep reading it, other than it being pleasantly written, reasonably interesting and just wanting to finish it. It doesn't end so much as it just stops. The main character is so peripheral to all the action that one seldom gets anything like suspense.

And yet, I give it four stars because I really did like it. It's maybe too wild for some and too unfocused for other. It's sort of unabashed world-building for its own sake. And the characters seemed quite real, though—and this is common in the late Mr. Aldiss—very alienated from everything and everyone else. Not quite Dickian alienation but strong nonetheless.

It was different, and that's something.

[Philip Dickinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm writing this review long after I left the rating, and since it's been several years since I last read this book, I may have to return and edit all this when I read it again.

I urge you to look beyond the unjustly low average rating of this novel. It is not perfect, and it will probably never be a true classic, so perhaps four stars is fair. That said, for now, I stick to the 5 I gave it, and this is why...

This story is told in first person which binds you tightly to the central character, Perian. Perian is a down-on-his-heels actor and lothario. Loose morals. This story charts a short period of his life in which he comes to realise his own shallowness. This alone makes the story worthwhile, when so many stories are about perfect, unbreakable heroes.

The reason this book is a masterpiece though is that it demonstrates Aldiss' astonishing imagination and his ability to sketch a rich tapestry with few words. The culture, politics and characters of this fantastical world are wild and pungent, and yet steeped in history and behaviours of our world. Aldiss can conjure with five words what other authors would struggle to convey with pages and pages of prose.

[Steve R · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the very first fantasy novels I'd ever read, but still one of the best. It got me going on Aldiss, and I think I've managed to read almost all of his fiction, from which I discovered how rare this particular offering was among his other works. He is more of a classic scifi type of writer, with a bent to relating the environmental conditions on his imagined planets to the social political actions of his characters. (The acme of this process was his Helliconia trilogy).

This work seems to be set in an imaginary equivalent of Renaissance Florence, and deals with black magicians, saintly priests and avaricious astrologers. The hero, Perian de Chirolo, is a loveably rakish type of adventurer, well suited to the intrigues which he must master to save his city and its culture from extinction.

I should try to find time to re-read this, since its more of a general positive impression than any specific scene or characters that I recall from my reading of it well over thirty years ago.

[Jeffrey Pisklak · Rating 5 out of 5]

I purchased this book on a whim from a local used bookshop because the cover art was intriguing (I have the ace paperback edition). This is not your typical Tolkien-esque style of fantasy. There are no lengthy descriptions of lore and history that so many fantasy readers thrive on. Aldiss drops you into the world with little explanation. The world is a strange medley of anachronistic reality and pure fantasy but, for all its complexity, feels cohesive and original. So many fantasy novels paint characters with a brush of virtuousness and clear moral compass. These characters are flawed, as is the society they inhabit. The book touches on themes of sexual and political revolution in a deeply religious and caste society. Never having read Aldiss before, I can���t speak to how this novel stands up against his other works but I can say that I thoroughly enjoyed reading this.

[Tell Tale Books · Rating 5 out of 5]

An excellent historical fantasy.
-Gregory Kerkman

[Michael O'Donnell · Rating 4 out of 5]

135 pages in. the ideas are amazing. the prose is dense.

[Arthur B · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent novel depicting a city in which nothing changes, and how one man learns to change in it. Full review: https://fakegeekboy.wordpress.com/200...

[Josh · Rating 3 out of 5]

What a strange journey with this book. I bought it from a used bookstore on the order of 25 years ago (!) because I liked Brian Aldiss. But I never read it. Possibly because it has the worst cover ever. It somehow survived multiple moves and bookshelf purges and still stubbornly remained both in my possession and unread. I finally grabbed it when I needed a reality break from a David Foster Wallace essay on conservative talk radio and something this weird-looking fit the bill.

And then it was just so darn mediocre at first. Its ridiculous "A MAJOR WORK BY A MAJOR AUTHOR" claim on the cover was belied by a meager 400 Goodreads reviews and a truly egregious number of typos. (I have never seen anything like it. A major character's name was misspelled like 10% of the time, no kidding.)

But I pressed on...and...out of nowhere Aldiss discovers the book's theme around a third of the way through. How can one enjoy life's good things when there are still bad things? Isn't there always gonna be bad things? Is happiness real or just a state of mind? How do you reconcile that with what others expect from you?

Aldiss' world-building is solid, and there are some unique and interesting fantasy elements, but I wouldn't say it all ever really comes together. Aldiss keeps up the momentum in the second half but it still seems bloated and meandering. Perian, the roguish narrator, is an out-and-out scoundrel and the women characters are pretty much all bad. But Aldiss still manages some great prose and there were occasional brilliant bits. On cats:

"No matter who came or went in my high room, Poseidon, the largest of the castle's cats, sat massively [LOL - ed.] on the window-sill, listening to all that passed but passing no judgment. Poseidon was a comfort to my illness. All men should be like him, I thought; not striving always for gain, lust, or advancement, but content with the luxury of being. It was a utopian dream of convalescence."

[Jamie Cummings · Rating 3 out of 5]

The world building is seamless and rich, the characters are charismatic and full. The story is predictable from early on, however, so is Ottos play. It is what De Chirolo learns from his journey that matters. SPOILER: I get why Aldiss didn’t want to show the next steps, however, the ending seems early and the story feels pointless if he learns nothing, even though he says he will learn from it, he changes his mind so quickly how can we believe him?

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

I found this novel somewhat disappointing, and I'm giving it three stars mainly on the strength of the world-building. Malacia is painted quite vividly by Aldiss, and makes a rich background for the story. But unfortunately it's a story that doesn't really go anywhere, with characters that don't inspire much interest or attachment. The protagonist, Perian de Chirolo, never acquires enough depth to generate much feeling of investment in his fate, and his capers and adventures don't have enough zest to bring him to the level of a lovable rogue.

It seems that Aldiss was trying to write something of a picaresque novel blended with philosophizing and social criticism, but neither aspect is developed properly. On the picaresque side, the episodes are fairly repetitive and don't include enough of the excesses and reversals that give picaresque its savor. On the contemplative side, the ideas presented are barely sketched and left relatively undeveloped. They tantalize a little, especially towards the end, but don't deliver any satisfaction.

Although plenty of things happen, there isn't much of a plot, and there isn't much adversity or challenge in the story. De Chirolo has ambitions, and he is thwarted at times, but these struggles don't feel very significant, as there is never really very much at risk. As a poor, roguish character, he has little to lose, and even his life doesn't come under threat until the very end, where the climactic event is too predictable in its basic form to really create any tension.

As I already mentioned, de Chirolo is a fairly shallow character, and for most of the story he is completely unaware of his own shortcomings and hypocrisies. Only in the last last quarter of the book does he goes through a dramatic event that apparently marks the beginning of a change in his attitudes, yet this change only manifests in him telling people he is going to change. The way he responds to betrayals of the sort that he himself committed several times before shows that he hasn't really changed much at all.

Part of the theme of the book is of course change itself. Malacia is under a "curse" that it should never change, and mysterious Supreme Council helps ensure this lack of change by abducting those who would introduce change and tossing their dismembered bodies into the river. This background give the potential for some exciting developments in the story, but by the end of the book this potential is left untapped. Is the message that these hopes for change are futile? Perhaps. But the lack of a significant plot in this book is a large weakness.

Malacia might have been a better milieu for a series of short stories, in this case. It is a kind of "eternal city" filled with fertile archetypes, but not a place where anything truly momentous happens, it would seem. Life goes on from millennium to millennium in much the same way as before. I could appreciate a Malicia of this kind. But I feel that Aldiss develops the story as if Malacia really could be on the cusp of a major change, and then in the end, this feeling drains away, leaving a vague sense of unfulfillment.

[D-day · Rating 1 out of 5]

The Malacia Tapestry follows the exploits of Perian de Chirolo, an actor in the city of Malacia as he looks for work, seduces women, falls in love and becomes embroiled in intrigue. Malacia is a combination 16th century Vienna, and Florence, in an alternate world where dinosaurs, known as ancestral animals still roam. The constant in Malacia is that there is never any change. Many people see it as a curse, but the rich and powerful, for obvious reasons, strive to keep it that way.

I was expecting a lot from this book. Brian Aldiss is a renowned science fiction author. I had read one of his books, `Non-Stop' and thought it was excellent. Also this book is on the list of the best 100 books of Modern Fantasy, but although it was well written, it was disappointing. The fantasy elements, such as the dinosaurs, lizard people, were just colour, they could have been removed with no basic change in the story. Aldiss might as well have set the story in real life Vienna for all the difference it would have made. Furthermore the central plot is not very inspiring- boy seduces girl, decides that he loves her after all, then finds she has different ideas. Meh

[Peter Coomber · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book, and a few other stories by a few other authors, is GUARANTEED (big letters; bold) to keep my interest whilst I read it, and give me a lovely warm feeling upon finishing it. It is so good, I just want to go back to the beginning and start all over again.
Brian Aldiss should have been made the ruler of a small country on account of writing this book. Hail, President Aldiss!

(Do you think I have gone a bit overboard?)

[Arunkumar Mahadevan Pillai · Rating 1 out of 5]

Boring and disappointing.
Somehow, the dinosaur bits never work out properly.
Everything about this book seems forced.
The plot is just too pointless and vapid, the author's intention to make the play in the story mirror the story itself too transparent, the ending almost like the author got bored of the book and stopped writing one evening after a bout of stomach upset.

Not recommended.

[AoC · Rating 3 out of 5]

Provided there's a single aspect of The Malacia Tapestry that managed to color entire the novel for me it would most assuredly be how unlikable our actor/protagonist Perian de Chirolo appears. Primarily the manner in which he embodies shallowness and womanizing as his occupations beyond stage efforts. Such perspective makes for quite the impression, though.

I was slightly amused by how long it took me to get the beat on Malacia itself. On one hand it's obviously heavily based on Renaissance Venice with all the accompanying feuding families and canals. Then you hear talks about Natural and High religions. Eyebrows begin to arch at this point as artistic take on "photography" is introduced except results are output on glass during a slow process. Eventually beans are spilled and this is, in fact, a fantasy setting where ancestor beasts are dwindling in population while some are used for sport by nobles, there are winged humans around as well as vague notions of mages working their craft. I believe what fooled me initially was included backstory about the impending Turkish invasion with some Bosnian warlord mixed in. And by god, Aldiss will go into decadent flowery prose to convey all this to the reader. Not that I minded in particular because it all goes so hand-in-hand with story proper. Speaking of which...

You know my pet peeve about Brian Aldiss' style of dialog aka immense dislike for it because characters merely serve as mouthpieces devoid of personality? Could've fooled me. Had The Malacia Tapestry been my initial gateway to the man I would probably think he's a very talented dialog writer. Why? Because it thematically fits so PERFECTLY with the kind of plot and character he's working with. Our boy Perian is an aspiring theater actor who lays his eyes upon one Armida - a haughty lady of noble birth opposed to his common actor status. What follows are escapades where he aspires to acquire fame and become a suitable match for his beloved. In theory, at least. When it comes to practice de Chirolo still philanders wherever and whenever he can, but to be fair the entire Malacian society seems to be on the same page and his like-minded friends don't bat an eyelid at this. In fact, they'd be surprised if he was otherwise. Neat part of the novel is how Perian and other hired "actor" perform in a certain play which ends up mirroring the main story itself and, as befitting, he's none the wiser until the finale.

Despite not liking the main character until the last fifty or so pages when he imbibes some wisdom of the ages and love pains, I could not help myself but take a fancy to The Malacia Tapestry. There's more to this setting, like how the eponymous city may be under a quite literal curse intended to maintain status quo with dashes of social commentary in there, but what sold the deal to me personally was how descriptive prose overload and [melo]dramatic theater dialog co-exist so naturally in a weird marriage. Might be a tad boring with its low stakes plot and dubious character quality, though.

[Ashley Lambert-Maberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a rather strange read. It's ostensibly a fantasy, but reads like a romance (one of those rare from-the-perspective-of-the-callow-youth romances, the pining swain all moody for his unobtainable woman). It happens to be set in an environment that we recognize as fantastic by its dissimilarity to actual places (a vaguely Venetian baroque setting, some unusual fauna, a race of winged-people, and an unusual interlude later on). But until about 2/3 of the way through, the fantastic elements are just window-dressing and the plot could With Great Ease be told as an episode of, say, Gossip Girl.

And I'd prefer if the plots of my fantasies had some aspect that necessitated their being a fantasy, otherwise it seems kind of pointless. Take Harry Potter, remove all the magic, just leave the bits about who he'll ask to the dance, etc., and it's not the same experience!

The writing is often beautiful, so a star for that, but I'm not sure I was able to appreciate what the writer was trying to accomplish here. Much was made (not in the way of plot, but as background) of the fact that in this fantasy world humans were descended from dinosaurs, essentially, who still exist and are plentiful, but this fact had no effect on anything. I'm puzzled.

(And eventual the book builds up to a stunningly unsurprising reveal which I can only imagine the author intended to be stunningly unsurprising, because it's that obvious.)

(Note: 5 stars = rare and amazing, 4 = quite good book, 3 = a decent read, 2 = disappointing, 1 = awful, just awful. There are a lot of 4s and 3s in the world!)

[Aaron Long · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had no expectations whatsoever going into this and admittedly it was my first taste of Brian Aldiss as an author although I did read a short by him (Faceless card) which was included within an anthology of short psychological short stories by various authors (Mind in chains) which I've also reviewed here. The cover art shown here isn't the cover I have and on the cover I have it is stated that (The Malacia Tapestry) is the best novel Aldiss has written in a long time, well I can't comment on that as I have many of his books which I haven't read yet but I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and I'm looking forward to reading more from him.

The Malacia Tapestry follows a young impoverished man Perian De Chirollo who longs for change and success within the corrupt port city of Malacia which is constantly living in fear of being invaded by the Ottoman empire. The city is filled with dusty sunlit hued streets inhabited by imaginative indigenous creatures of the old world, lizard men, ape men, street beggars, vendors, wizards, astronomers and more trying to make ends meet and kids whom futures remain uncertain. The city is an old Renaissance foundation esque city teeming with aspiring artists and ideologists who ultimately are trying to bring about change for the better of Malacia much to the chagrin of the underbelly and corrupt governing body beneath its facade. Perian De Chirollo who is also a ladies man is offered an acting gig in line with a new invention which uses natural light on the lens in addition to props being added for the performers, without giving too much away this is where De Chirrolos troubles start and his adventures begin. I think Aldiss really conveyed his vision here and his world building was second to none, I feel as though I've been there and walked it's entirety, experiencing its smells and falling into Malacias bustling streets aplenty. I think this book is perfectly balanced and written in a beautiful style which will stay with you thereafter. There are many aspects to this book which I personally loved which is broken up into three books within, and I especially like how Aldiss integrates real old world empires into a fantasy driven novel, for me it works and worked especially well for the Malacia Tapestry.

[Aaron Long · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had no expectations whatsoever going into this and admittedly it was my first taste of Brian Aldiss as an author although I did read a short by him (Faceless card) which was included within an anthology of short psychological short stories by various authors (Mind in chains) which I've also reviewed here. The cover art shown here isn't the cover I have and on the cover I have it is stated that (The Malacia Tapestry) is the best novel Aldiss has written in a long time, well I can't comment on that as I have many of his books which I haven't read yet but I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and I'm looking forward to reading more from him.

The Malacia Tapestry follows a young impoverished man Perian De Chirollo who longs for change and success within the corrupt port city of Malacia which is constantly living in fear of being invaded by the Ottoman empire. The city is filled with dusty sunlit hued streets inhabited by imaginative indigenous creatures of the old world, lizard men, ape men, street beggars, vendors, wizards, astronomers and more trying to make ends meet and kids whom futures remain uncertain. The city is an old Renaissance foundation esque city teeming with aspiring artists and ideologists who ultimately are trying to bring about change for the better of Malacia much to the chagrin of the underbelly and corrupt governing body beneath its facade. Perian De Chirollo who is also a ladies man is offered an acting gig in line with a new invention which uses natural light on the lens in addition to props being added for the performers, without giving too much away this is where De Chirrolos troubles start and his adventures begin. I think Aldiss really conveyed his vision here and his world building was second to none, I feel as though I've been there and walked it's entirety, experiencing its smells and falling into Malacias bustling streets aplenty. I think this book is perfectly balanced and written in a beautiful style which will stay with you thereafter. There are many aspects to this book which I personally loved which is broken up into three books within, and I especially like how Aldiss integrates real old world empires into a fantasy driven novel, for me it works and worked especially well for the Malacia Tapestry.

[Benj · Rating 3 out of 5]

A fabulous book, in many senses of the word. Malacia is a late-medieval city that has been fixed in time for thousands of years. As well as humans, it is populated by mythical creatures such as satyrs and winged people, and the spells of magicians and fortune-tellers work.

One fascinating aspect is that the human population are descended from dinosaurs, despite the females having obviously mammalian characteristics. A few dinosaurs still exist, and are uniformly referred to as 'Ancestrals'.

The plot is quite thin, involving someone trying (and failing) to implement some change in Malacia. However, the main reason I can't give it a better score is because the main character, Perian de Chirolo, is a completely despicable person. Shallow, unfeeling, so self-centred as to verge on solipsism, he is not comfortable company to keep, and this occasionally made me reluctant to continue reading.

I'm glad that I did, though. The world the Adliss imagined is beautiful, and lingers in the memory.