Saturday, 11 July 2015 11:07 pm
Book Review: Hunter's Moon, a.k.a. The Foxes of Firstdark
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deckardcanineI had not heard of Garry Kilworth or his 1989 work before receiving it for my birthday. My folks had read good things about it, but it's pretty obscure. My copy appears to be a first edition, with no praise on the cover or the inside (and many typos).
Sure enough, the story is to red foxes basically as Richard Adams' Watership Down is to rabbits and, to a lesser extent, as Tad Williams' Tailchaser's Song is to cats. The animals show more intellect than their real-life counterparts likely have, but not exactly on par with ours. They have their own mythology, which ultimately appears partly if not entirely true. At least one character has supernatural insight (and lacks tact). Sometimes they see fit to fight their own kind, and sometimes they form unusual interspecies alliances. They hold a low opinion of humans, the only animals they can't talk with, but come to learn that not all humans are nasty; some even help out. Dogs don't appeal to them much better, if at all. And while the ending is sweet enough, first you have to brace yourself for many sad things happening to cute little critters.
Now to discuss some key differences. To my appreciation, Kilworth invents too few animal words to bother with a full-fledged glossary, altho he does start out listing vulpine names for the different winds of the year. The animals don't all share a common language, tho the more closely related species speak at least similar languages. Interestingly, Kilworth substitutes different human languages: Cats speak French, crows German, squirrels Italian, and mustelids what I take to be Old English. Vulpine society is somewhat matriarchal, and we meet about equal numbers of male and female characters. We don't get much in the way of stories within the story; details of legends rarely exceed a paragraph. And the conflict never really extends to a large group, partly since foxes keep to smaller groups for security reasons.
I'm not sure how much I can tell you about the plot without giving too much away. It meanders a bit but always concerns British vixen O-ha and/or her family, never having a very easy time surviving, whether in the hunt-happy country or with the encroaching suburb. The most overarching challenge takes the form of Saber, evidently the world's largest and most bloodthirsty dog, who doesn't need much of a slight to obsess over total "revenge." Just about all sorts of vulpine experiences get covered, short of lifelong pethood.
The first chapter covers O-ha's first courtship, as idyllic and proud as any youthful romance. Whenever a story begins that way, you know things are going to come crashing down before long. In part 2, we meet Camio, an American fox who escapes from the zoo. He doesn't share O-ha's knowledge of and respect for rituals and other traditions, but his suburban experience makes him a valuable consultant. The culture clash reminds me of the webcomic "Faux Pas," but it's not as severe.
Interesting non-foxes include a sometimes sociable, sometimes grumpy badger; an old foxhound coming to grips with his obsolescence; and an otter whose command of the vulpine language sounds downright flowery. Among foxes, probably the most interesting other than O-ha and Camio is a mystic who claims to have attained enlightenment from living at a church, but his values are hardly Christian. Foxes trust him on medical matters; they're less sure (as are we) what to make of his "wisdom" on anything else, especially as he grows more extremist. There's a vaguely similar character later, but I think Kilworth couldn't figure out the best use for him in the grand scheme: He perceives a divine mission that predictably accomplishes nothing but his own demise.
The reading goes rather quickly, helped along by short, neatly divided chapters. It does a good job of putting you in the head of a fox, more or less. Kilworth insists that he studied the species well; I can think of no example to shed doubt on this. I recommend the book to fans of the subgenre and possibly others.
Up next: Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers. It's highly polarizing, so I've braced myself.
Sure enough, the story is to red foxes basically as Richard Adams' Watership Down is to rabbits and, to a lesser extent, as Tad Williams' Tailchaser's Song is to cats. The animals show more intellect than their real-life counterparts likely have, but not exactly on par with ours. They have their own mythology, which ultimately appears partly if not entirely true. At least one character has supernatural insight (and lacks tact). Sometimes they see fit to fight their own kind, and sometimes they form unusual interspecies alliances. They hold a low opinion of humans, the only animals they can't talk with, but come to learn that not all humans are nasty; some even help out. Dogs don't appeal to them much better, if at all. And while the ending is sweet enough, first you have to brace yourself for many sad things happening to cute little critters.
Now to discuss some key differences. To my appreciation, Kilworth invents too few animal words to bother with a full-fledged glossary, altho he does start out listing vulpine names for the different winds of the year. The animals don't all share a common language, tho the more closely related species speak at least similar languages. Interestingly, Kilworth substitutes different human languages: Cats speak French, crows German, squirrels Italian, and mustelids what I take to be Old English. Vulpine society is somewhat matriarchal, and we meet about equal numbers of male and female characters. We don't get much in the way of stories within the story; details of legends rarely exceed a paragraph. And the conflict never really extends to a large group, partly since foxes keep to smaller groups for security reasons.
I'm not sure how much I can tell you about the plot without giving too much away. It meanders a bit but always concerns British vixen O-ha and/or her family, never having a very easy time surviving, whether in the hunt-happy country or with the encroaching suburb. The most overarching challenge takes the form of Saber, evidently the world's largest and most bloodthirsty dog, who doesn't need much of a slight to obsess over total "revenge." Just about all sorts of vulpine experiences get covered, short of lifelong pethood.
The first chapter covers O-ha's first courtship, as idyllic and proud as any youthful romance. Whenever a story begins that way, you know things are going to come crashing down before long. In part 2, we meet Camio, an American fox who escapes from the zoo. He doesn't share O-ha's knowledge of and respect for rituals and other traditions, but his suburban experience makes him a valuable consultant. The culture clash reminds me of the webcomic "Faux Pas," but it's not as severe.
Interesting non-foxes include a sometimes sociable, sometimes grumpy badger; an old foxhound coming to grips with his obsolescence; and an otter whose command of the vulpine language sounds downright flowery. Among foxes, probably the most interesting other than O-ha and Camio is a mystic who claims to have attained enlightenment from living at a church, but his values are hardly Christian. Foxes trust him on medical matters; they're less sure (as are we) what to make of his "wisdom" on anything else, especially as he grows more extremist. There's a vaguely similar character later, but I think Kilworth couldn't figure out the best use for him in the grand scheme: He perceives a divine mission that predictably accomplishes nothing but his own demise.
The reading goes rather quickly, helped along by short, neatly divided chapters. It does a good job of putting you in the head of a fox, more or less. Kilworth insists that he studied the species well; I can think of no example to shed doubt on this. I recommend the book to fans of the subgenre and possibly others.
Up next: Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers. It's highly polarizing, so I've braced myself.