Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Joanne Harris: Jigs & Reels: Stories

I'd previously read Joanne Harris’ Chocolat and Gentlemen & Players: both intelligent novels and meticulously crafted, but I find her voice drones a bit at that length. However, I'm delighted to report that the stories in Jigs & Reels are tightly-written and varied. Harris' style remains quiet (with a few exceptions), but her interesting ideas take center stage in the shorter format, and I enjoy her light use of fantasy and horror as commentary.

A few of the stories retell fairytales or cynically predict the future; most have a creepy touch of the paranormal. They’re all direct in style, focusing on curious observations and unusual characters. ("Suburban witches, defiant old ladies, ageing monsters, suicidal Lottery winners, wolf men, dolphin women and middle-aged manufacturers of erotic leatherwear", says the cover).

A variety of central ideas

Most of Harris’ stories develop a central idea or character; few seem moody or experimental. The Little Mermaid and The Ugly Sister both rework fairytales into stories in which a woman lives according to the way others see her:
For a moment I tried to conceive of not being an Ugly Sister. Ugly is a word I've dragged behind me all my life; it defines who I am. Without it, what am I? The thought made me shiver.

The stranger saw my expression. "These things are just part of the roles we play," he said.
I particularly like the way Harris examines the Cinderella fairytale’s caricatures. Did the step-sisters need to be ugly, unkind, and undeserving? Or could all that drama be ordinary family friction, exaggerated to provide a more saintly, suffering Cinderella and a detestable pair of villains?

Also in a sentimental vein, Faith and Hope go Shopping is the tale of two elderlies on the lam--and the dreams they spin around a pair of red shoes and a copy of Lolita. In contrast, Eau de Toilette gives a stomach-turning olfactory tour of 18th-century court dress, while Waiting for Gandalf is a sting-in-the-tail story about middle-aged role-playing gamers.

Not a showy stylist

Harris' matter-of-fact tone works surprisingly well for such strange subject matter. Her even delivery helps persuade me of a perfectly ordinary reality populated by idiosyncratic characters. As Harris puts it:
they all think of themselves as perfectly normal, however unconventional their lifestyle. My suburban witches choose Bella Pasta for their high-school reunion and agonize about their weight; my dolphin woman falls in love with a man who is bad for her, just like any other woman, and my Ugly Sister, after three hundred years of being the villain of the piece, still only wants her prince….
This juxtaposition of the stodgy and the fantastical took me by surprise in several stories set in a conservative, old-fashioned England. For example, Gastronomicon (a Lovecraftian pastiche) introduces an ancient, exotic netherworld into an unadventurous domestic life. A seemingly dull housewife takes a few risks to spice up the dinner table, and the setting turns from humdrum to hair-raising. (Jasminembla has an excerpt.)

Several of these stories share similar timing; perhaps Harris overuses that moment when the worm turns. But the twist works more often than not. Sometimes I'm disappointed that the obvious solution is the answer, but often I feel the surprise, or I enjoy the shift in the story's atmosphere.

Overall, the collection has some great ideas, though a few stories seem underdeveloped or flat. I particularly appreciate the unusual combination of weird and accessible that distinguishes the best of the stories.

Grade: B+


Joanne Harris: Sleep, Pale Sister

More by Harris

I haven’t fallen head-over-heels for any of Harris’ books, but they’re smart and they engage my curiosity. I have one more on my list: the Victorian-set Sleep, Pale Sister, whose blurb claims "a powerful, atmospheric and blackly gothic evocation of Victorian artistic life." See the description on Harris’ website.

Joanne Harris: Gentlemen and Players
Some of the Jigs & Reels stories revisit St Oswald’s Grammar School for Boys--the setting for Harris’ murder-and-identity mystery Gentlemen & Players. G&P is a good, if rather cold, read. The relationships of the faculty and students are sketched precisely, and the villain’s point of view interrupts strategically whenever the book verges on becoming cozy. I actually prefer G&P to the far better-known Chocolat.

4 Comments:

Carolyn Jean said...

Thanks for this review. This sounds like a very interesting and thoughtful book, and I love how you brought in the author commentary on the juxtaposition you point out ("they all think of themselves as perfectly normal, however unconventional their lifestyle...")

RfP said...

Thanks, CJ. I liked the characters' lack of self-consciousness about their strange worlds (though they were often self-conscious about themselves fitting in, just as in the ordinary world), so it was interesting to find that quote on Harris' website. One more reason she strikes me as such a deliberate writer!

I'm still thinking over how she merged the mundane and the bizarre. I didn't get the sense that the characters were twits who failed to notice strange things about the world around them. Instead, the magical or paranormal elements were completely integrated into the world. It read like speculative fiction (how would daily life change if what's "normal" changed) rather than time-travel fiction (OMG, everything's strange).

CrankyOtter said...

Thanks for the review. I rather liked the quirkiness of Chocolat but I had the same notion that it went on a little too long. Perhaps the short stories will do the trick.

RfP said...

Hi, CrankyOtter. I like Harris' quirkiness too. Also the cleverness, which I notice in all her work but especially the stories. Hope you'll enjoy them.