A wash of huge, blurry stars arches overhead. (35)Īnd here is a paragraph from near the end, which must be fantasy:Įverything is so clear, so bright. A helicopter slowly crosses the sky from west to east, the needle of its laser spotlight intermittently stabbing amongst the flat roofs of deck access housing. Streetlights, the scattered lights of the tower blocks behind screens of hardy sycamores and ginkgoes, the lights of the pyramid-capped tower of Canary Wharf rising into the sodium orange sky. Lights drift past the minicab like stars seen from some hyperlight spaceship. Old London Town is growing strange and exotic in the grip of what they are now calling the Great Climatic Overturn. In either case the place to start is, what kind of novel is it? Here is a paragraph from near the start of the novel, which is surely science fiction: This may become the first in a short series of short posts on aspects of Paul McAuley’s 1995 novel Fairyland, or it may end up orphaned and alone.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |