Kerpow tactics in world of fantasy

Blue Light by Walter Mosley (Serpents Tail: #9.99) Someplace To Be Flying by Charles De Lint (Pan: #6.99) Walter Mosley grabs you by the essentials on page one of Blue Light and squeezes tight for the full 295 pages which follow. Anyone buying this book on the strength of earlier works like Devil In A Blue Dress or Gone Fishin' will be instantly shocked: Mosley has written what is essentially a stylised superhero story. Blue Light marks a radical departure by a major American author from the cosy territory of urban depravity, to the generally despised medium of futuristic adventure. It's a gutsy move and an instant eyebrow-raiser - like Kubrick giving us Lolita, then Dr Strangelove, then 2001.

This genre transvestism can go horribly wrong when even a solid writer finds himself without a compass in unfamiliar territory (hello, Martin Amis: you're not Elmore Leonard). But Mosley avoids the obvious pitfalls and hacks deeper into the SF-zone with confidence, betraying a childhood reading Marvel Comics with a torch under the duvet.

The book opens at the high-watermark of the drug-soaked 60s. A cosmic blue light strikes San Francisco: everyone in its path is transformed into a superhuman, quickening their DNA and enhancing their strength and understanding. On a superficial level, Blue Light chronicles the rise and fall of these individuals and their various power struggles with the Gray Man, one of their number struck by the light at the moment he died to become the living embodiment of death. OK, the subject matter is a little tie-die cheesy. But Mosley brings a wit and intelligence to this pic'n'mix of pilfered pop concepts, turning the superhero into a complex exploration of the human condition. What these people lose on their path to Godhood over 33 chapters sheds light on what we all are. The solitary link to his earlier work is the clipped, narrative style of his prose - not to mention devastating punchlines which often leave the senses reeling. A love scene in the prologue concludes with one of the heroes biting a hole in the chest of her boyfriend, hammered home by the fact that "Marcus's spongy nipple was caught between her back molars". The characters and conclusions are relentlessly uncompromising. There's an obvious subtext here - Mosley is comparing the cosmic awareness of the mutants to the mind expansion which created the liberal counter-culture of the period. But this is almost eclipsed by Mosley's simultaneous terror and fascination for the youth of tomorrow. This book reminded me of the optimistic paranoia displayed by all those cool Fabian-Society geezers like HG Wells and Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton, as the previous century drew to a close. Bulwer- Lytton's The Coming Race is an obvious comparison - a respectable writer dipping a toe into penny-dreadful waters as thoughts about the future are suddenly considered worthy of attention. Mosley's recurring theme of race as an issue in his work is employed here frequently enough to become irritating. A black writer most readily-identified with black literature, his intention is doubtless to tell his stories from a black male's perspective. But the references often seem ham-fisted in a multi-cultural society and it's here that Mosley looks a little out of time. He generally leaves me with the cynical feeling that he's sometimes playing to the gallery when he constantly refers to the colour of his skin. Ottawa-based writer Charles De Lint explores similar themes in his new novel, but just as Canadians aren't quite Americans, Someplace To Be Flying isn't quite Blue Light. De Lint has a keen understanding of the "God, I HATE my Stepdad" gothic fantasy market and the release date of Someplace To Be Flying is probably circled on your watercolour Tolkien calendar if you enjoyed earlier works such as (cough) Moonheart or Spiritwalk. Like Mosley, De Lint reminds us that there's more to the world than Tony Blair and interest-free credit. He cracks open the very fabric of reality to expose the magic hidden beneath the concrete. However, Someplace To Be Flying is just another safe, respectable fantasy novel from the neo-Gothic cover right down to the typical cast of pseudo-mythic characters with names like Jack Daw, Crazy Crow and Raven. The premise of an age-old, magical war gearing up to erupt in the heart of the big city isnt exactly a fresh idea and De Lint does little to take it beyond the parameters of the genre. But it's a readable page-turner, the perfect, 620-page beach book. That is, if his audience weren't so averse to a tan. Mark Millar writes for DC Comics' Superman and Batman titles.

Copyright 1999
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