Al Robertson: Would definitely rush to Weird Shit shelves, think they should be balanced with Heavy Shit also. Dictionary Weird "Strange or bizarre.supernatural, uncanny" Uncanny's nice makes me think of unheimlich, which I suppose is a v. good definition of it uncomfort-ing fiction. Would definitely rush to Weird Shit shelves, think they should be balanced with Heavy Shit also. Dictionary Weird "Strange or bizarre.supernatural, uncanny" Uncanny's nice makes me think of unheimlich, which I suppose is a v. good definition of it uncomfort-ing fiction.

Krishna: I'm not sure I'd go near uncanny shelves. I've seen what sort of injuries falling books can cause. "Excuse me miss, can I see the Heavy Shit librarian?" I'm not sure I'd go near uncanny shelves. I've seen what sort of injuries falling books can cause. "Excuse me miss, can I see the Heavy Shit librarian?"

Harrison: Nuevo Weird? [Zali], the Heavy Shit librarian, sums things up as ever. It makes that exact allusion to Nuevo Weird? [Zali], the Heavy Shit librarian, sums things up as ever. It makes that exact allusion to Weird Tales Weird Tales and especially the fact that, back then, in that marvellous & uncorrupted time of the world, everything could still be all mixed up together horror, sf, fantasy and no one told you off or said your career was over with their firm if you kept doing that. I heard it in conversation with China Mieville his self, and cheekily reapplied it in a preface to "The Tain" (mainly so I could use the title "China Mieville & the New Weird", which I thought was second in impact only to "Uncle Zip and the New Nuevo Tango"). He writes it. But who else? And what are its exact parameters? Indeed, do we and especially the fact that, back then, in that marvellous & uncorrupted time of the world, everything could still be all mixed up together horror, sf, fantasy and no one told you off or said your career was over with their firm if you kept doing that. I heard it in conversation with China Mieville his self, and cheekily reapplied it in a preface to "The Tain" (mainly so I could use the title "China Mieville & the New Weird", which I thought was second in impact only to "Uncle Zip and the New Nuevo Tango"). He writes it. But who else? And what are its exact parameters? Indeed, do we want want it to have exact parameters? Do we even want it? Is it, as Steph says, instantly rendered Old by being spoken of as New? it to have exact parameters? Do we even want it? Is it, as Steph says, instantly rendered Old by being spoken of as New?

Stephanie Swainston: The New Weird is a wonderful development in literary fantasy fiction. I would have called it Bright Fantasy, because it is vivid and because it is clever. The New Weird is a kickback against jaded heroic fantasy which has been the only staple for far too long. Instead of stemming from Tolkien, it is influenced by The New Weird is a wonderful development in literary fantasy fiction. I would have called it Bright Fantasy, because it is vivid and because it is clever. The New Weird is a kickback against jaded heroic fantasy which has been the only staple for far too long. Instead of stemming from Tolkien, it is influenced by Gormenghast Gormenghast and and Viriconium. Viriconium. It is incredibly eclectic, and takes ideas from any source. It borrows from American Indian and Far Eastern mythology rather than European or Norse traditions, but the main influence is modern culture street culture mixing with ancient mythologies. The text isn't experimental, but the creatures are. It is amazingly empathic. What is it like to be a clone? Or to walk on your hundred quirky legs? The New Weird attempts to explain. It acknowledges other literary traditions, for example Angela Carter's mainstream fiction, or classics like Melville. Films are a source of inspiration because action is vital. The elves were first up against the wall when the revolution came, and instead we want the vastness of the science fiction film universe on the page. It is incredibly eclectic, and takes ideas from any source. It borrows from American Indian and Far Eastern mythology rather than European or Norse traditions, but the main influence is modern culture street culture mixing with ancient mythologies. The text isn't experimental, but the creatures are. It is amazingly empathic. What is it like to be a clone? Or to walk on your hundred quirky legs? The New Weird attempts to explain. It acknowledges other literary traditions, for example Angela Carter's mainstream fiction, or classics like Melville. Films are a source of inspiration because action is vital. The elves were first up against the wall when the revolution came, and instead we want the vastness of the science fiction film universe on the page.

There is a lot of genre-mixing going on, thank god. (Jon Courtnay Grimwood mixes futuristic sf and crime novels). The New Weird grabs everything, and so genre-mixing is part of it, but not the leading role. The New Weird is secular, and very politically informed. Questions of morality are posed. Even the politics, though, is secondary to this sub-genre's most important theme: detail.

The details are jewel-bright, hallucinatory, carefully described. Today's Tolkienesque fantasy is lazy and broad-brush. Today's Michael Marshall thrillers rely lazily on brand names. The New Weird attempts to place the reader in a world they do not expect, a world that surprises them the reader stares around and sees a vivid world through the detail. These details clothing, behaviour, scales and teeth are what makes New Weird worlds so much like ours, as recognisable and as well-described. It is visual, and every scene is packed with baroque detail. Nouveau-goths use neon and tinsel as well as black clothes. The New Weird is more multi-spectral than gothic.

But one garuda does not make a revolution. There are not many New Weird writers because it is so difficult to do. Where is the rest? Jeff Noon? Samuel R. Delany? Do we have to wait for parodies of Bas-Lag? [M. John Harrison,] how many revolutions have you been part of?? The New Weird is energetic. Vivacity, vitality, detail; that's what it's about. Trappings of Space Opera or Fantasy may be irrelevant when the Light is turned on.

Des Lewis: Vivid and clever, yes, and uncluttered. The text itself need not be untextured, though. Densely textured (or neo-Proustian) Vivid and clever, yes, and uncluttered. The text itself need not be untextured, though. Densely textured (or neo-Proustian) and and limpid would apply to the New Weird at different times. but always uncluttered by anything else or anything unconnected with the text. limpid would apply to the New Weird at different times. but always uncluttered by anything else or anything unconnected with the text.

Swainston: Des: I agree. So the text is not "baroque"; style must be elegant even though it can be dense. On a practical level, the speed of reading is very important for action scenes! The surreal aspect is my favourite (I like colourful) but even in this the New Weird is not New Moorcock's "End of Time" books. The sub-genre is a combination of all these traits. But let's not make it too proscriptive. Des: I agree. So the text is not "baroque"; style must be elegant even though it can be dense. On a practical level, the speed of reading is very important for action scenes! The surreal aspect is my favourite (I like colourful) but even in this the New Weird is not New Moorcock's "End of Time" books. The sub-genre is a combination of all these traits. But let's not make it too proscriptive.

John Powell: "in that marvellous & uncorrupted time of the world, everything could still be all mixed up together horror, sf, fantasy and no one told you off or said your career was over with their firm if you kept doing that." You could also include "realistic" fiction, thriller and symbolist fiction in that definition. The book I am reading, half way through it, "in that marvellous & uncorrupted time of the world, everything could still be all mixed up together horror, sf, fantasy and no one told you off or said your career was over with their firm if you kept doing that." You could also include "realistic" fiction, thriller and symbolist fiction in that definition. The book I am reading, half way through it, Rain, Rain, by Karen Duve, uses alot of those categories. It's very sly about it, and very, very funny. It seems realist, straight sober, well-mannered fiction but it subverts the entire ball game. So far anyway. She is very talented. by Karen Duve, uses alot of those categories. It's very sly about it, and very, very funny. It seems realist, straight sober, well-mannered fiction but it subverts the entire ball game. So far anyway. She is very talented.

Jonathan Strahan: Or is it the sound of one hand re-inventing itself? I can't believe anyone is proposing another possible movement title. I mean aren't you a New Wave Fabulist or something? Seriously. I think it's a load of old cobblers. Much like the new space opera (a term invented by a bunch of critics to cover the fact that they got distracted by cyberpunk and didn't notice that no one had stopped writing the other stuff), the new weird/new wave fabulist/slipstream whatever seems to be a pretty happy and healthy outgrowth of some things that came before which would probably be much better off if left unlabelled and left to grow in the dark where they belong. I certainly can't believe that you (MJH), China, VanderMeer, or anyone else would be better off if you were packaged up with some handy-dandy label. Or is it the sound of one hand re-inventing itself? I can't believe anyone is proposing another possible movement title. I mean aren't you a New Wave Fabulist or something? Seriously. I think it's a load of old cobblers. Much like the new space opera (a term invented by a bunch of critics to cover the fact that they got distracted by cyberpunk and didn't notice that no one had stopped writing the other stuff), the new weird/new wave fabulist/slipstream whatever seems to be a pretty happy and healthy outgrowth of some things that came before which would probably be much better off if left unlabelled and left to grow in the dark where they belong. I certainly can't believe that you (MJH), China, VanderMeer, or anyone else would be better off if you were packaged up with some handy-dandy label.

Powell: I understand this idea differently. So called mainstream Anglo-American fiction tends to be very literal minded. A chair is a chair, a bus is a bus kind of thing. You can't have the vertical stripes of a John Lewis logo morphing into a vision of distant hills. It just wouldn't do. Thus you have mainstream on the one hand and science fiction on the other. Only in science fiction does the logo morph, etc. This bifurcation is less pronounced in European literature. The metaphysical I understand this idea differently. So called mainstream Anglo-American fiction tends to be very literal minded. A chair is a chair, a bus is a bus kind of thing. You can't have the vertical stripes of a John Lewis logo morphing into a vision of distant hills. It just wouldn't do. Thus you have mainstream on the one hand and science fiction on the other. Only in science fiction does the logo morph, etc. This bifurcation is less pronounced in European literature. The metaphysical is is in the mainstream. in the mainstream.

Robertson: Have been pondering all this myself recently and ranting to people about it as non-realist fiction, ie fiction that's aware that it's not real (it's just ink on paper, at the end of the day) and does interesting things with this, at whatever level. Have been pondering all this myself recently and ranting to people about it as non-realist fiction, ie fiction that's aware that it's not real (it's just ink on paper, at the end of the day) and does interesting things with this, at whatever level.

I don't see the point in trying to make a literal representation of a reality (itself a doomed enterprise) to talk about that reality, when you can have a dragon stick its head through the window, or the ghost of a spaceman wander past. For me, abandoning strict definitions of the real (tho' I think you still need emotional / thematic / internal coherence etc) leads to more interesting narratives, richer imagery, and a wider field of view in general.

I do hesitate slightly to put a name on things tho' it's good to have an inclusive banner to march under, it's also problematic if that becomes an exclusive banner to judge with. My attitude if it works, use it, if it doesn't, find out why, and use that knowledge. Having said that, there's definitely something developing out there.

Swainston: Jonathan: yes, agree that these authors would be better off without labels at all. Each is so individual anyway: China is writing his own style, etc. But they're too smart to feel limited by the fact some reviewer has bounded them together. Jonathan: yes, agree that these authors would be better off without labels at all. Each is so individual anyway: China is writing his own style, etc. But they're too smart to feel limited by the fact some reviewer has bounded them together.

That the authors have ten labels thrust upon the authors by readers/ reviewers/publishers probably makes them want to rationalise it into one label! It isn't the authors doing the labelling, or wishing to join anything. Perhaps the rest of us are just trying to make sense of it.

This is not the crest of a high and beautiful wave it's a sub-genre with a lot of developing to do. Good writers are going to do what they do regardless of others' labelling and they'll outlive any fad (if this really exists, and if it is a fad).

Rick (last name unknown): I have to confess that this thread represents the extent of my exposure to the New Weird. So far my initial reaction is similar to Jonathan S's. Apart from the new label (Oh good, another new label.), what is new? Judging by Steph's explanation above, Clive Barker and Christopher Fowler have been newly weird for years, and possibly Banks as well sometimes. You might even be able to get away with hiding some of Moorcock's antiheroic stuff in there too -although perhaps not stylistically. A list of influences and sources from which borrowing is identifiable does not bode well for an exciting new movement. I have to confess that this thread represents the extent of my exposure to the New Weird. So far my initial reaction is similar to Jonathan S's. Apart from the new label (Oh good, another new label.), what is new? Judging by Steph's explanation above, Clive Barker and Christopher Fowler have been newly weird for years, and possibly Banks as well sometimes. You might even be able to get away with hiding some of Moorcock's antiheroic stuff in there too -although perhaps not stylistically. A list of influences and sources from which borrowing is identifiable does not bode well for an exciting new movement.

The healthiest stuff has always mixed and matched or mismatched without regard for labels. With determined dis disregard for labels. A new movement. Apart from stuff like cyberpunk and space opera, which have the definition built into the label thus making it really easy for everyone, many of the movements that have gone before seemed to represent more of a shape-shifting, natural mutation: magic realism, Brit new wave, slipstream. All reactionary, but with blurred or easily disposable manifestos.

New labels and sub-genres encourage people to try to write what fits fashion. Cyberpunk should have made that clear (shudders). Don't like labels. Don't like canons. Like beer.

Harrison: Hi Jonathan. The old dog learns to amuse itself wherever it can, sometimes by learning new tricks, sometimes by the copious use of irony, sometimes both. I believe I'm an honorary New Wave Fabulist, yes, along with about twenty other puzzled people. Generous of Brad Morrow to bestow that laurel on me after I so repeatedly savaged his New Gothic in the Hi Jonathan. The old dog learns to amuse itself wherever it can, sometimes by learning new tricks, sometimes by the copious use of irony, sometimes both. I believe I'm an honorary New Wave Fabulist, yes, along with about twenty other puzzled people. Generous of Brad Morrow to bestow that laurel on me after I so repeatedly savaged his New Gothic in the TLS TLS [ [ Times Literary Supplement] Times Literary Supplement] in the 90s. As Steph remarked, "MJH, how many revolutions have you been part of?" Two or three, I suppose, and sometimes I was there and sometimes I wasn't. That history gives me satisfactions, along with a point of view on names and naming, that you can't have. in the 90s. As Steph remarked, "MJH, how many revolutions have you been part of?" Two or three, I suppose, and sometimes I was there and sometimes I wasn't. That history gives me satisfactions, along with a point of view on names and naming, that you can't have.

One thing is, I think it reductive to describe China or Justina or Al Reynolds (neither do I think you will be able to describe Steph herself), as a mere regrowth from some buried root. You may be able to describe many US Next Wavers as that, I'm sure. Were you intending to be reductive there, Jonathan, or was that just an accident of prose? Reductivism can be so close to belittling, can't it? Don't you find?

Another thing is, in misreading my opening post here (and ignoring the actual information contained in my second one) you underestimate not just the cheerful ironic glee of new-movement-naming; you underestimate the amount of agenda involved. If I don't throw my hat in the ring, write a preface, do a guest editorial here, write a review in the Guardian Guardian there, then I'm leaving it to Michael Moorcock or David Hartwell to describe what I (and the British authors I admire) write. Or, god forbid, I wake up one morning and find there, then I'm leaving it to Michael Moorcock or David Hartwell to describe what I (and the British authors I admire) write. Or, god forbid, I wake up one morning and find you you describing me. describing me.

There's a war on here, Jonathan. It's the struggle to name. The struggle to name is the struggle to own. Surely you're not naive enough to think that your bracingly commonsensical, "I think it's a lot of old cobblers" view is anything more than a shot in it? One more question, and I think very pertinent to that last one Why do you want us to remain in the dark where we belong, Jonathan? What might your unconscious motive be for wanting that, do you think?

Rick: Steph: "they're too smart to feel limited by the fact some reviewer has bounded them together". definitely. The danger is probably for new writers who have yet to build confidence, literary identity and voice. Steph: "they're too smart to feel limited by the fact some reviewer has bounded them together". definitely. The danger is probably for new writers who have yet to build confidence, literary identity and voice.

Mike: your last post is scary. You describe a literary/political struggle that cries out for canons. Another weapon of ownership surely.

For the record, I think China M is brilliant both as a writer, and in his willingness to stand up and be counted where his politics are concerned. Justina is brilliant too. Neither can be described as "mere regrowth from some buried root". You've said yourself that there is nothing but influence. The trouble with labels and movements is that they imply parameters. They encourage people to disassemble what is a fully syn-thesised whole in a quest for its building blocks, its influences. To de-embed (?). There is plenty that's new or fresh. or that feels feels new and fresh. What are we after? To define it so we can break it down into identifiable components? What then? Understand the bits in a stab at literary determinism. Study enough bits and all possible texts will emerge? Ownership. new and fresh. What are we after? To define it so we can break it down into identifiable components? What then? Understand the bits in a stab at literary determinism. Study enough bits and all possible texts will emerge? Ownership.

Powell: Structure is what I think we are after. (What I am, anyway.) Handke: "Work is almost all structure." You get the structure, you can do the essay. The story. Or whatever. It falls into place. You can complete. No structure, no completion. (e.g. hard to write an essay on what science fiction is without limiting terms to structure it. On the other hand, what does limit it? Nothing? On these grounds no essay.) Structure is what I think we are after. (What I am, anyway.) Handke: "Work is almost all structure." You get the structure, you can do the essay. The story. Or whatever. It falls into place. You can complete. No structure, no completion. (e.g. hard to write an essay on what science fiction is without limiting terms to structure it. On the other hand, what does limit it? Nothing? On these grounds no essay.) Justina Robson: It's like Venn diagrams, isn't it? Everyone involved in artistic creation has a whole lot of things going on at once. Some are big footprints over predecessors and some come in from the quirky sidelines of whoever's life it is and taken all together you have a full picture of what someone's doing at a particular moment. It's like Venn diagrams, isn't it? Everyone involved in artistic creation has a whole lot of things going on at once. Some are big footprints over predecessors and some come in from the quirky sidelines of whoever's life it is and taken all together you have a full picture of what someone's doing at a particular moment.

Trouble is, all of those Venn circles are politically charged and economically charged, like it or not. The assignment of value (quality) is something you have to do because you're human and everything has to be categorised somewhere on the scale of Important To Me/Not Important To Me. We all know, mostly to our cost, exactly what the Science Fiction/Fantastic stamp is worth in the contemporary economy of literature. It's so powerful a stamp that Margaret Atwood's publicist has gone to enormous lengths (and has been aided) to make sure it doesn't appear in any review of Oryx and Crake Oryx and Crake in mainstream press. (I say this because as far as I've been able to track it through a discussion on FEM-SF, [Margaret Atwood] herself has never derided SF.) in mainstream press. (I say this because as far as I've been able to track it through a discussion on FEM-SF, [Margaret Atwood] herself has never derided SF.) Saying these divisions are cobblers expresses justified exasperation but it's disingenuous. This is a war, the winners get all the loot and to name the Truth. I think [M. John Harrison] is right. It's also why his stand to claim the right to define, and China's stand, and my stand.is pissing in the wind unfortunately as none of us has Recognised Power of Naming.

I think that Literature is going to come to SF and try and take the entire thing over by main force in the next five years. Compare, for interest, two recent publications: Jeff Noon's Falling Out of Cars Falling Out of Cars and Don DeLillo's and Don DeLillo's Cosmopolis. Cosmopolis. (Personally I think the main difference will be that one is fun to read and the other isn't, but that's not what I'm getting at. I think these two books are about exactly the same thing.) I think this has to happen, because the world has turned into a SF world. This won't prevent SF itself remaining marginalised and associated with Trek and Buffy conventions, sigh, and the reason is that if you could read a new book by an unknown author from a devalued genre then you will never set it up alongside a book from a well-known author from an overvalued genre (see peer pressure, psychological weakness of human species, consensus etc.). (Personally I think the main difference will be that one is fun to read and the other isn't, but that's not what I'm getting at. I think these two books are about exactly the same thing.) I think this has to happen, because the world has turned into a SF world. This won't prevent SF itself remaining marginalised and associated with Trek and Buffy conventions, sigh, and the reason is that if you could read a new book by an unknown author from a devalued genre then you will never set it up alongside a book from a well-known author from an overvalued genre (see peer pressure, psychological weakness of human species, consensus etc.).

Henry: It seems to me that to describe the New Weird as a movement or a school is to fall into a trap; one immediately starts trying to categorize, to reduce, to say that writers of the New Weird are x, y and z, and that x, y and z are what is important about them. It's only one short step from there to self-published manifestoes, official goals, and Five Year Programmes. I reckon that it's more useful to think of the New Weird as an argument. An argument between a bunch of writers who read each other, who sometimes influence each other, sometimes struggle against that influence. Who don't ever agree on what the New Weird is, on where it starts and stops, but are prepared to harangue each other about it. Describing the New Weird in these terms involves its own kind of codswallop, but at least it's a less constricting kind of codswallop. But I'm an academic rather than a writer; I It seems to me that to describe the New Weird as a movement or a school is to fall into a trap; one immediately starts trying to categorize, to reduce, to say that writers of the New Weird are x, y and z, and that x, y and z are what is important about them. It's only one short step from there to self-published manifestoes, official goals, and Five Year Programmes. I reckon that it's more useful to think of the New Weird as an argument. An argument between a bunch of writers who read each other, who sometimes influence each other, sometimes struggle against that influence. Who don't ever agree on what the New Weird is, on where it starts and stops, but are prepared to harangue each other about it. Describing the New Weird in these terms involves its own kind of codswallop, but at least it's a less constricting kind of codswallop. But I'm an academic rather than a writer; I look look and and read read but I don't but I don't do do so I'm writing this from the outside. so I'm writing this from the outside.

Cheryl Morgan: Labels are marketing gimmicks. I've been asked to be on a panel about the New Weird (although it isn't called that) at Wiscon. Labels are marketing gimmicks. I've been asked to be on a panel about the New Weird (although it isn't called that) at Wiscon.

The main reason the panel exists is that China is one of the [Guests of Honor] and lots of eager Americans want to know where they can find "more like this". So, yes, Jonathan, it may be a load of old cobblers from a literary theory point of view, but it is also an opportunity to sell more books, and perhaps even secure a US publishing contract or two. So who wants me to claim them for the New Weird?

Rick: I could live with that as an alternative interpretation, but then it becomes an in-crowd in-joke. MJP: I think there's scope for debate about carts and horses here. Structure is often something that is only seen in retrospect. Depending on the method favoured by the writer, it is not unusual for structure to be the last thing on an author's mind. In these cases it emerges from the struggle and the resolution. Completion occurs and then, later, the structure is perceived. I could live with that as an alternative interpretation, but then it becomes an in-crowd in-joke. MJP: I think there's scope for debate about carts and horses here. Structure is often something that is only seen in retrospect. Depending on the method favoured by the writer, it is not unusual for structure to be the last thing on an author's mind. In these cases it emerges from the struggle and the resolution. Completion occurs and then, later, the structure is perceived.

Robertson: Hmm labels certainly marketing gimmicks, and with my marketing hat on New Weird vs. useful label, clearly defined area of fiction appealing to clearly defined target marketplace etc. Hmm labels certainly marketing gimmicks, and with my marketing hat on New Weird vs. useful label, clearly defined area of fiction appealing to clearly defined target marketplace etc.

But I don't like talking about fiction like this, hold onto notion that you write what you need to write and that the great struggle as a writer is not to write like a part of a school but to write like yourself. Other considerations certainly present, but secondary.

If people can be recognisably grouped, it's I hope because they share concerns / strategies / effects / etc, because they share these they create fiction that has a common mindset that overlaps with each other not because they've taken a market driven or insecurity driven decision to do so. I hope that you are a certain type of person, with certain interests, certain concerns, therefore become a certain type of writer as a natural expression of where you are. Perhaps naive certainly economically so.

Therefore label useful as a means of identifying that sharedness, but something that comes after the writing, not before it or driving it. Rick totally agree structure (at least, critical structure) often retrospective a post rationalisation of something that was intuitive when carried out.

But naming is power (as [M. John Harrison] points out) because it defines the thing named, includes certain things / people / etc, excludes certain things / people / etc. But if the name doesn't work it will be shortlived. There has to be an interaction, a sense of appropriate relationship. If the name is wrong, created for short term political reasons, whatever, it will drop away. Hype great but temporary, it never lasts, it's quality that endures.

Strahan: Hi Mike "The old dog learns to amuse itself wherever it can, sometimes by learning new tricks, sometimes by the copious use of irony, sometimes both." I certainly saw the irony [in] it, and even wondered if there was more than a little desire to struggle against the labelling impulse by throwing more labels out there just to mischievously confuse the labelers.I don't think I've heard of a single [New Wave Fabulist] who was pleased with or felt some connection to the label. I don't even think [the editor Peter] Straub had anything to do with it, so it's a little unfortunate it is gaining any currency. Hi Mike "The old dog learns to amuse itself wherever it can, sometimes by learning new tricks, sometimes by the copious use of irony, sometimes both." I certainly saw the irony [in] it, and even wondered if there was more than a little desire to struggle against the labelling impulse by throwing more labels out there just to mischievously confuse the labelers.I don't think I've heard of a single [New Wave Fabulist] who was pleased with or felt some connection to the label. I don't even think [the editor Peter] Straub had anything to do with it, so it's a little unfortunate it is gaining any currency.

No, I wasn't attempting to be reductive or to in any sense belittle the achievement of any of the writers mentioned in this forum. What I was suggesting though, is that the endless search by a small-ish group of commentators to label and sort what is happening in the genre is a) reductive itself and b) ignores the fact that many of those writers are wholly or in part influenced by existing traditions. I would also add that I strongly feel that any label reduces and limits perception of a work of art, and so is often less than helpful. I also note my own tendency to a) label and b) use labels. It's something I try to fight.

Well, I would say that rather than misreading [your "cheerful ironic glee"], I took a particular approach.Mike, the only way I'm interested in describing you is as you. Fiction by Mike Harrison is Mike Harrison fiction. It may echo something here or there, but it's still mostly Mike. As to the need to seize the labelling day, as it were I understand and sympathise. I guess it's just my instinctive reaction to try to beat back the labellers and prevent the very war you mention.

"There's a war on here, Jonathan. It's the struggle to name. The struggle to name is the struggle to own. Surely you're not naive enough to think that your bracingly commonsensical, "I think it's a lot of old cobblers" view is anything more than a shot in it?" Not at all. I understand, but it rankles. I don't think the war is a productive or intrinsically worthwhile thing because it leads to a reductive view of art rather than an attempt to understand what is actually being achieved by the artists in question.

"Why do you want us to remain in the dark where we belong, Jonathan? What might your unconscious motive be for wanting that, do you think?" I think this is your sense of mischief coming to the fore. I don't think you seriously believe that by ridiculing an attempt to drum up a label for work that may have some vague commonalities that I'm in any way trying to keep anything in the dark. If I have an unconscious motive, it's to not have to go through the whole stupid cyberpunk thing again and live through a decade of people with very little talent dressing their latest trilogy up in new weird drag. Besides, what's the matter with the dark.

Harrison: I agree with everyone here on the basic point. It would be difficult not to, having said so many times that fiction should be written by individuals. I agree with everyone here on the basic point. It would be difficult not to, having said so many times that fiction should be written by individuals.

But two things: there is is a struggle to name, whether we like it or not, and that struggle is also a struggle to define and own. I think labels are crap, but I'm not willing to give up my own definition of what's going on without a fight. Especially, paradoxically, since one of the best things going on with this form of fiction is its genuinely unlabelable (is that a word?) quality, the sense I have of real, lively writers doing exactly what they want to do. So please excuse me, all of you, if I go over the top a bit about this sometimes. a struggle to name, whether we like it or not, and that struggle is also a struggle to define and own. I think labels are crap, but I'm not willing to give up my own definition of what's going on without a fight. Especially, paradoxically, since one of the best things going on with this form of fiction is its genuinely unlabelable (is that a word?) quality, the sense I have of real, lively writers doing exactly what they want to do. So please excuse me, all of you, if I go over the top a bit about this sometimes.

I think I agree most with Justina and Cheryl's pragmatism here: anything that does a job for the fiction, I'm in favour of.

Steph, I take your point about ownership: I just don't ever intend to wake up being owned by someone else otherwise, why be a writer in the first place? The New Wave named itself (or stuck itself to the best label it could find from those on offer), not just for publicity purposes, not just as a flag, but because to name yourself is to take responsibility for your ideas. That's a way to prevent commercialisation and carpet-bagging, especially now, when we're surrounded by middlemen who live by that kind of parasitism.

Henry: I so wholly agree with this: "I reckon that it's more useful to think of the New Weird as an argument. An argument between a bunch of writers who read each other, who sometimes influence each other, sometimes struggle against that influence. Who don't ever agree on what the New Weird is, on where it starts and stops, but are prepared to harangue each other about it. Describing the New Weird in these terms involves its own kind of codswallop, but at least it's a less constricting kind of codswallop."

Jonathan: you're right, of course, there was deliberate mischief-making in both my posts; and, yes, it was designed to get us all baying at one another; and yes, I wish to God we could have our cake and eat it. This whole process is as undignified as hell, especially right at the start of something that might get no further but which has to describe itself (and thus nurture itself) somehow.

Justina: Speaking of carpetbagging from the mainstream, I think you're absolutely right, and that a big convulsion is in the offing. We need to take the advantage and get our act together, certainly. But I'm not as convinced as you that we'll lose. (After all, we have Battleship Mieville.) It's up to us, as individuals and as sharers of some labelled or unlabelled umbrella, to make ourselves as strong and feisty as possible. There will will be a melting pot, at some level, although personally I think it will take the form of a steadily-enlarging slipstream. Up to us to allow for that and see it as an opportunity, not a defeat. To be honest, I'm in favour. The prospect shakes me out of my old guy's lethargy. I'm ready to swim or drown. be a melting pot, at some level, although personally I think it will take the form of a steadily-enlarging slipstream. Up to us to allow for that and see it as an opportunity, not a defeat. To be honest, I'm in favour. The prospect shakes me out of my old guy's lethargy. I'm ready to swim or drown.

Strahan: Hey Mike. You win. Just used "new weird" in a book review. Let's do a definitive anthology to celebrate! Hey Mike. You win. Just used "new weird" in a book review. Let's do a definitive anthology to celebrate!

Harrison: OK Jonathan. Now, what shall we call it. OK Jonathan. Now, what shall we call it.

Strahan: Why The New Weird, of course. Or maybe Odd Worlds: The Best of the New Weird.So the next obvious question is, who are the new weirdoes? We have China and Jeff and. Why The New Weird, of course. Or maybe Odd Worlds: The Best of the New Weird.So the next obvious question is, who are the new weirdoes? We have China and Jeff and.

Morgan: Thank you Jonathan, that's exactly the question I need answered for my Wiscon panel. (And you have the two names I have.) Suggestions would be appreciated. By the way, I have suggested to Wiscon that "New Weird" be used in the panel title. Thank you Jonathan, that's exactly the question I need answered for my Wiscon panel. (And you have the two names I have.) Suggestions would be appreciated. By the way, I have suggested to Wiscon that "New Weird" be used in the panel title.

Harrison: Hi Jonathan. I think naming names would be making rather too much mischief, for me, at present. The Wiscon panel Cheryl mentioned will surely produce a list we can all argue over. Instead I've been mulling over Justina's point above, trying to match it to my own sense that something is happening here (but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?) which I see as really quite new in the history of the ghetto's relationship with the mainstream. As Justina says: it's a science world now, & they're just waking up to that out there, also how to speak about it, or let it speak itself through you. Hi Jonathan. I think naming names would be making rather too much mischief, for me, at present. The Wiscon panel Cheryl mentioned will surely produce a list we can all argue over. Instead I've been mulling over Justina's point above, trying to match it to my own sense that something is happening here (but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?) which I see as really quite new in the history of the ghetto's relationship with the mainstream. As Justina says: it's a science world now, & they're just waking up to that out there, also how to speak about it, or let it speak itself through you.

This is in a way a development from the highly fashionable science & the arts movement which has been going on in other disciplines since the mid 90s (and of which we, bless our little cotton socks, though we're clear inheritors of that label, have taken no advantage at all). Part of the problem there is that we have taken absolutely no part in the discussions, and never insisted on having a place in things. You can't expect people to come to you in this life, and if you don't make moves of your own, you can hardly complain if things seem to change very suddenly around you in a way you weren't prepared for. I was sitting in on informal meetings on the South Bank in 1997/8: everyone else there was a scientist or someone in the plastic arts.This point extends further. Life in the West now is a crossply of fantasies. Because we understand fantasy from the inside, we're the people to write about that, too. It seems to me that as a result we should open this front of the struggle-to-name, the front that faces out from the ghetto, with a certain confidence.

I'm aware here that I'm not talking directly about the New Weird, & that I've bundled it with Brit SF. Deliberately, because I see them both as responses or not quite that, probably some better word to the same situation, which is the increasing convergence of concerns between literary mainstream fiction and f/sf. Thus back to Justina's point: they are soon going to be tackling exactly the same subjects as us. I don't think we can beat them, in the sense of taking them on directly; but I don't think we have to. I'm in favour of a melting pot in fact I think it already exists, partly because "slipstream" has been quietly doing just that for a whole new generation of readers who are as happy with [my collection] Travel Arrangements Travel Arrangements as with a David Mitchell novel although I'm very aware that both China and Justina have different views here. All of this concerns me more than how the new developments in f/sf represented by China, Al Reynolds, Justina, myself, et al, face as with a David Mitchell novel although I'm very aware that both China and Justina have different views here. All of this concerns me more than how the new developments in f/sf represented by China, Al Reynolds, Justina, myself, et al, face inwards inwards into the genre. I suspect that may become in some sense irrelevant. into the genre. I suspect that may become in some sense irrelevant.

So I'm less interested in filling the contents list of an inward-facing collection, than in wondering how we organise and present ourselves when we face outwards. How we capitalise on the out-there response to [China Mieville's] The Scar The Scar or [my own] or [my own] Light, Light, or the fact that the broadsheets review pages are so suddenly interested in us all. What concerns me is who, in the New Weird, etc., is capable of speaking outwards with confidence, not inwards. or the fact that the broadsheets review pages are so suddenly interested in us all. What concerns me is who, in the New Weird, etc., is capable of speaking outwards with confidence, not inwards.

"New Weird": I Think We're the Scene

MICHAEL CISCO.

LITERARY HISTORY is heavily invested in scenes and schools, portable assemblies (Surrealists, Romantics, Beats) put together by critics. Hindsight naturally makes this assembling work easier, at least in part because the mill of arguments will have ground to a halt (it's easier to snapshot a stationary object), and the vast profusion of determinative details that are so easily missed and which no one point of view, I think, can encompass, have been forgotten. Arguments about the meaning of a movement are any movement's primary content, regarded as something bigger than the sum of its parts; the questions and answers, the political map of positions, usually turn out to be more important than any resolution posited at the time, or, to put it better, those resolutions in the moment, rather than eliminating questions or arguments, join them in a general manifold. Trying to name and adequately describe the scene as it unfolds in the present is like cutting cookies out of the fog, but perhaps that irreducible vagueness should encourage people to try.

Now there is the sense of a trend, loosely identified with a heterogeneous company of writers as varied in their works as China Mieville and Jeffrey VanderMeer. For the sake of keeping ourselves in circulation, we might provisionally describe this as a tendency toward more literarily sophisticated fantasy. In bookstores, Fantasy Fantasy means the Piers Anthony/ J. R. R. Tolkien section; the word is an abbreviation for a standard content, like a brand. means the Piers Anthony/ J. R. R. Tolkien section; the word is an abbreviation for a standard content, like a brand. A Midsummer Night's Dream, Alice in Wonderland, The Golden Ass, Gulliver's Travels A Midsummer Night's Dream, Alice in Wonderland, The Golden Ass, Gulliver's Travels or or Naked Lunch Naked Lunch are not shelved there, although they are all fantasies. This has everything to do with selling books, making sure the buyer finds what he or she is looking for, and reflects no judgment with regard to the literary status of this or that work of fantasy. A certain amount of work is produced specifically for the purpose of stocking shelves in the are not shelved there, although they are all fantasies. This has everything to do with selling books, making sure the buyer finds what he or she is looking for, and reflects no judgment with regard to the literary status of this or that work of fantasy. A certain amount of work is produced specifically for the purpose of stocking shelves in the Fantasy Fantasy section, where the index of novelty is best kept low. The serendipitous constellation of contemporary fantasy writers that belong to or generate the "New Weird" seem generally and in varying proportions to blend the influences of genre writing and literary fantasy, and to weave in non-fantastic signals as well. section, where the index of novelty is best kept low. The serendipitous constellation of contemporary fantasy writers that belong to or generate the "New Weird" seem generally and in varying proportions to blend the influences of genre writing and literary fantasy, and to weave in non-fantastic signals as well.

Poetry restores language by breaking it, and I think that much contemporary writing restores fantasy, as a genre of writing in contrast to a genre of commodity or a section in a bookstore, by breaking it. Michael Moorcock revived fantasy by prying it loose from morality; writers like Jeff VanderMeer, Stepan Chapman, Lucius Shepard, Jeffrey Ford, Nathan Ballingrud are doing the same by prying fantasy away from pedestrian writing, with more vibrant and daring styles, more reflective thinking, and a more widely broadcast spectrum of themes.

Every year The New Yorker The New Yorker releases its new fiction issue, profiling the important new writers, and every year they get it mostly wrong. An inessential, NPR tepidness prevails, and this is plainly not where it's at. Lucius Shepard's releases its new fiction issue, profiling the important new writers, and every year they get it mostly wrong. An inessential, NPR tepidness prevails, and this is plainly not where it's at. Lucius Shepard's A Handbook of American Prayer A Handbook of American Prayer is where it's at. is where it's at. Handbook, Veniss Underground, The Troika, The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque, The Etched City, My Work Is Not Yet Done Handbook, Veniss Underground, The Troika, The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque, The Etched City, My Work Is Not Yet Done are not examples of good fantasy writing or good genre writing, but they are examples of good writing. Fantasy writing is no more inherently inessential than any other variety, and no more inherently escapist, either. What makes writing escapist is not a matter of whether or not it involves magic but whether or not it involves something meaningful. Fantasy writing is if anything increasingly relevant because it involves building and representing the whole world, fantasy worlds, sci-fi worlds, hidden Gnostic horror worlds. This proliferation of worlds seems to me to be bound up with the extent to which the world has become immersed in trade-marked representation. are not examples of good fantasy writing or good genre writing, but they are examples of good writing. Fantasy writing is no more inherently inessential than any other variety, and no more inherently escapist, either. What makes writing escapist is not a matter of whether or not it involves magic but whether or not it involves something meaningful. Fantasy writing is if anything increasingly relevant because it involves building and representing the whole world, fantasy worlds, sci-fi worlds, hidden Gnostic horror worlds. This proliferation of worlds seems to me to be bound up with the extent to which the world has become immersed in trade-marked representation.

The New Weird, as I've said, is a topic for critics and not so much for writers. Nothing could be more unenlightening or useless than a New Weird manifesto. What strikes the observer is precisely the spontaneity with which so many different writers, pursuing such obviously disparate literary styles, should vaguely intersect in this way. Instead of a set of general aims, we have a great proliferation of correspondences on a more intimate level, like a sprawling coincidence of idiosyncratic choices. Mapping out a scheme won't yield us much insight into what's going on, although it might add something interesting of its own. The richness of this new writing recommends a depth-diving model rather than a breadth-sweeping one, such that none of its variety or perversion is planned out. The writing in question is more extensively and usefully defined by the unconscious or spontaneous choices the authors are making than by the directed ones; maybe this is most often the case. Certainly, none of the writers thus far invoked have, to my knowledge, set out to be New Weird writers, in the way that Andre Breton et al set out to be Surrealists.

Why pronunciations and definitions, if not to elicit counter claims? Sometimes it seems as though the winners in these matters prevail more as a consequence of sheer exhaustion, which can mean a depletion of the store of endurance but just as readily of the store of interest, so that the received definition of any given wave is the final score in a game called on account of rain and indefinitely, maybe permanently, postponed thereafter. The New Weird has come into being, such as it is and whatever it should be, on its own and not by dint of any decision or program, so the attribution of decisions and schemes to it ought to be seen as prescriptions rather than as descriptions. This is only a problem if the prescription is mistaken for a description, that is to say, X, precisely because he believes the New Weird is such and such, doesn't say this is what it "should be," he says rather "this is what it is."

It's not as though literature preserves a province unto itself, and that genre stands in compartments below the level of general literature. All works of literature will express characteristics of genre. In his prologue to The Invention of Morel, The Invention of Morel, by Adolfo Bioy Casares, Borges touches on the tendency to disparage the adventure story, the mystery story, and contrasts them to the "formless" modern psychological novel. The formless psychological novel is a genre which, more so at the time in which Borges was writing and somewhat less so now, ascended to preeminence on the smoldering remains of other genres. It may be that, in order to exist, genres may engage in a weird disembodied war that cannot be entirely explained in market or in aesthetic terms. More likely, this war is a blind for something more frankly political. by Adolfo Bioy Casares, Borges touches on the tendency to disparage the adventure story, the mystery story, and contrasts them to the "formless" modern psychological novel. The formless psychological novel is a genre which, more so at the time in which Borges was writing and somewhat less so now, ascended to preeminence on the smoldering remains of other genres. It may be that, in order to exist, genres may engage in a weird disembodied war that cannot be entirely explained in market or in aesthetic terms. More likely, this war is a blind for something more frankly political.

The distinction between genre literature and general literature is bogus, at least in any non-colloquial sense of these terms. What is "general literature"? If we begin to define it, even assuming this definition can be uncontroversial, we are already outlining tendencies or rules which are indistinguishable in kind from those that are used to define genre literature. The distinction between genre and general is an evaluation from the outset, and not an innocent differentiation. The New Weird might be better defined as a refusal to accept this evaluation of imaginative literature, whatever form it may take. So it is not for reasons of influence alone that such authors as Borges, Calvino, Angela Carter are invoked by many of those in the imaginative camp, but also because these authors are obviously both fantastic and literary. Each after their own fashion, as you would expect.

Tracking Phantoms

DARJA MALCOLM-CLARKE.

WHEN PEOPLE TALK ABOUT the New Weird, it's almost as though they are talking about a ghost. Some have seen it, some are open to the possibility. Others are non-believers. All manner of discussions have cropped up around the question of whether or not something called New Weird actually exists. Does the name describe an emergent subgenre? Is it (merely) a coincidental proliferation of a kind of speculative fiction? Or is it a mass hallucination created by a constituency hungry for yet another way to categorize fiction? Regardless of the answers to these questions, the effect New Weird has had on the genre fiction community is undeniable.

However, I should say that on one level, to me personally, it doesn't much matter whether the New Weird is "real" or not the New Weird as an idea led me to a set of texts I might not have otherwise pursued. I wouldn't be the same reader, writer, or scholar if I hadn't read New Weird fiction. I daresay the genre fiction field wouldn't be the same, either, if the New Weird movement or "moment" hadn't happened. For me, it changed the kinds of questions I ask about literature and the kinds of things I want from literature; it served as a partial guide to what I wanted to do in my own own fiction; and it changed what I thought I could get from a book. fiction; and it changed what I thought I could get from a book.

I first came to the New Weird as a graduate student at Indiana University studying post-World War II science fiction. It happened by chance: I returned from a vacation to find that the SF Studies Reading Group I was part of had selected a text called Perdido Street Station Perdido Street Station for its next read. I didn't know anything about the New Weird then, but I was so drawn into the milieu of for its next read. I didn't know anything about the New Weird then, but I was so drawn into the milieu of Perdido, Perdido, and the way it seemed to mix the aesthetics of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, while also admiring its use of language and style, that I was bowled over when I heard there was a "movement" of texts with somehow similar qualities. As I read more of this movement, I was captivated on every level at which I relate to books as a critic, writer, and long-time speculative fiction reader. and the way it seemed to mix the aesthetics of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, while also admiring its use of language and style, that I was bowled over when I heard there was a "movement" of texts with somehow similar qualities. As I read more of this movement, I was captivated on every level at which I relate to books as a critic, writer, and long-time speculative fiction reader.

These texts made me read like a kid again, voraciously, with glee. It was hard to resist the sheer fun of their myriad fantastical/pseudo-scientific contraptions, settings, and worldviews the Fisherwives and Yardbulls in Paul Di Filippo's "A Year in the Linear City," which bear away the bodies of the recently dead; the parallel world called the Shift in Steph Swainston's The Year of Our War; The Year of Our War; the race of mushroom dwellers in Jeff VanderMeer's the race of mushroom dwellers in Jeff VanderMeer's City of Saints and Madmen; City of Saints and Madmen; Mieville's interdimensional Weaver in Mieville's interdimensional Weaver in Perdido Perdido and the Possible Sword of and the Possible Sword of The Scar. The Scar.

All of those elements we could say defamiliarize the way we see our own world, and ask us to re-envision what we know about, or rather, how we conceptualize, the metaphysical makeup of our own world. They did it in a way that seemed somehow new even though their aesthetic struck me as vaguely familiar it evoked H. P. Lovecraft's grotesque cosmology and the bizarre worldview produced through his sanity-shattering elder gods.

But the grotesquerie of the New Weird wasn't the extreme cosmic horror of Lovecraft, or even of supernatural horror, but one of degree degree grotesquerie of exaggeration. New Weird had the sense of unease that is found in Horror, but that unease wasn't resolved in a moment of terror. Instead, that grotesquerie was part of the secondary worlds' aesthetic as a whole. It could be seen in elements like the Festival of the Freshwater Squid and in the Living Saint of grotesquerie of exaggeration. New Weird had the sense of unease that is found in Horror, but that unease wasn't resolved in a moment of terror. Instead, that grotesquerie was part of the secondary worlds' aesthetic as a whole. It could be seen in elements like the Festival of the Freshwater Squid and in the Living Saint of City of Saints, City of Saints, for instance; in the mangled bodies of the Remade and the physical squalor and moral degradation of New Crobuzon in Mieville's Bas-Lag texts; the presence of Insects, with their mindless consumption of living beings, the Tines' "creative mutilation," and the Vermiform worm-girl in for instance; in the mangled bodies of the Remade and the physical squalor and moral degradation of New Crobuzon in Mieville's Bas-Lag texts; the presence of Insects, with their mindless consumption of living beings, the Tines' "creative mutilation," and the Vermiform worm-girl in The Year of Our War; The Year of Our War; and the living animal amalgamations and rampant deformity of stillborn children borne of an entire city gone awry in and the living animal amalgamations and rampant deformity of stillborn children borne of an entire city gone awry in The Etched The Etched City. These elements mirror an aesthetic that can be found in Mervyn Peake's first two These elements mirror an aesthetic that can be found in Mervyn Peake's first two Gormenghast Gormenghast novels.novels that had a particular preoccupation with cultural issues like the monolithic burden of tradition, and the essence of authority. novels.novels that had a particular preoccupation with cultural issues like the monolithic burden of tradition, and the essence of authority.

Indeed, the grotesquerie in these texts seems to be related to the texts' socio-political milieu. More specifically, it seems in some cases to focus upon the corporeality the very bodies of the characters. The Remade of the Bas-Lag novels, the dwarf-manta ray from City of Saints, City of Saints, the immortal and multiform Eszai and dreamlike animal denizens of the drug-induced Shift in the immortal and multiform Eszai and dreamlike animal denizens of the drug-induced Shift in The Year of Our War, The Year of Our War, Gwynn as a basilisk and Beth as a sphinx in Gwynn as a basilisk and Beth as a sphinx in The Etched City. The Etched City.

The question arises, why is grotesquerie such a prominent element in these texts, and why is there a proliferation of these characters with strange bodily forms? Speculative fiction is replete with weird corporealities, of course ghosts, aliens, cyborgs, monsters of all sorts and probably all of them could be seen as "weird." But in New Weird texts, characters' bodies appear in a grotesque mode and this changes the way we respond to them. We can't read those grotesque bodies in the same way as we do bodies that register as "normal."

What is the grotesque? For one thing, it's an aesthetic register that unsettles. Consider gargoyles, Medusa, Frankenstein's monster, the alien in the movies of the same name. The out-and-out blood and guts of some kind of splatter-oriented horror suggests anxiety about or the attempt to come to grips with death. But the grotesque points to something else entirely, something more subtle. It's an unease that suggests our way of classifying the world into knowable parts doesn't get the job done; it is, ultimately, confusion, confusion, because the different parts of something don't make sense together (Harpham xv). The grotesque demonstrates that there are things for which we do not have categories, and, therefore, that our ways of making meaning are artificial. because the different parts of something don't make sense together (Harpham xv). The grotesque demonstrates that there are things for which we do not have categories, and, therefore, that our ways of making meaning are artificial.

If the grotesque is part of the New Weird's overall aesthetic, how does it inflect or affect the stories' content? The grotesque in these texts seems to be inviting a particular reading of the texts' events, characters, or socio-political backdrop (depending on the text). Many are set in urban spaces populated by physically weird, aesthetically grotesque characters. These two elements bodies and cities play a dominant roll in the stories' symbolic or visual vocabulary. In fact, many of the stories themselves establish a connection between bodies and cities: in Iron Council, Iron Council, the Remade had to get out of New Crobuzon to found a city where they could live free of tyranny; Dvorak the dwarf is tattooed with an image of Ambergris, and later becomes a manta-ray that somehow the Remade had to get out of New Crobuzon to found a city where they could live free of tyranny; Dvorak the dwarf is tattooed with an image of Ambergris, and later becomes a manta-ray that somehow is is the city, come to reclaim the man called X, in the city, come to reclaim the man called X, in City of Saints; City of Saints; images of Gwynn's body torn asunder populate Beth's artwork more and more as Gwynn's role in promoting slavery in Ashamoil increases; and in images of Gwynn's body torn asunder populate Beth's artwork more and more as Gwynn's role in promoting slavery in Ashamoil increases; and in The Year of Our War, The Year of Our War, the city of Epsilon can be accessed only through death or a hallucinogenic drug, and is the origin of the Insects that terrorize the Fourlands. Broadly speaking, within the symbolic vocabulary of the texts, cities seem to stand for the overarching power or social structure, and a reading often a critique of those structures can be seen in the grotesquerie of the characters' corporeality. Whether power structures are tyrannical, totalitarian, corrupt, godless these texts use the grotesque to evoke a particular response about the way society is organized. In these texts, the grotesque points out the artificiality of unjust social structures. the city of Epsilon can be accessed only through death or a hallucinogenic drug, and is the origin of the Insects that terrorize the Fourlands. Broadly speaking, within the symbolic vocabulary of the texts, cities seem to stand for the overarching power or social structure, and a reading often a critique of those structures can be seen in the grotesquerie of the characters' corporeality. Whether power structures are tyrannical, totalitarian, corrupt, godless these texts use the grotesque to evoke a particular response about the way society is organized. In these texts, the grotesque points out the artificiality of unjust social structures.

And that, I'd suggest, is one of the strengths of the New Weird, at least in those texts that draw on the grotesque: with its apparent interest in the urban and the corporeal as an arena for power struggle, alongside its weird aesthetic, the New Weird seems to have a built-in faculty for social critique (or access to it, in any case).

One of speculative fiction's great abilities is to defamiliarize our own world so that we can better see it and the New Weird has a way of fore-fronting how the social terrain operates and affects everyday people. Within this equation of grotesque mode/urban focus, the New Weird presents a platform for addressing all sorts of issues class (see Bishop's The Etched City), The Etched City), racism (see "Dradin, In Love" in racism (see "Dradin, In Love" in City of Saints), City of Saints), imperialism (see Mieville's "The Tain"). In this sense, New Weird is one of the most radical phantoms yet to haunt fantasy literature. imperialism (see Mieville's "The Tain"). In this sense, New Weird is one of the most radical phantoms yet to haunt fantasy literature.

Despite this possible radicalism, it is worth noting that one area hasn't been much explored within the texts being called New Weird: the interrogation of gender and sexuality. For instance, the New Weird could function as a framework for interrogating the discursive production of masculinity and femininity as exaggerations (enter: the grotesque) of sexual dimorphism, issues of power and the body, gendered social inequality, assumptions about normative sexuality and gender all of these issues could be productively explored or interrogated through a New Weird mode. It will be interesting to see if, in future years, feminist writers find the New Weird mode a productive space in which to undertake their work.

Another characteristic of the New Weird texts is the mix and medley of fantasy, horror, and science fiction genres. New Weird texts often take place in extensively developed secondary worlds governed by metaphysics more magical than scientific the stuff of fantasy even though they are presented as the latter, the stuff of science fiction. See, for instance, the inter-dimensional paralyzing "oneirochromatophores" of the slake-moths' wings in Perdido, Perdido, and the magic aether of Ian R. MacLeod's and the magic aether of Ian R. MacLeod's The Light Ages, The Light Ages, which is the keystone of this alternate-history England's economy. This particular blend of genres, cast so often within a grotesque aesthetic, simultaneously seems new and harks back to the "weird" fiction of the early twentieth century, before the genres had emerged or coalesced into the forms as we know them today. which is the keystone of this alternate-history England's economy. This particular blend of genres, cast so often within a grotesque aesthetic, simultaneously seems new and harks back to the "weird" fiction of the early twentieth century, before the genres had emerged or coalesced into the forms as we know them today.

This parallels a current overarching impulse in speculative fiction -the speculative literary mode seems to be undergoing an upheaval, or at least a persistent interrogation, of genre boundaries. We can see this in the increasing popularity of slipstream, which obscures the boundaries between speculative and mimetic (realistic) literature. And we can see it as well in the Interstitial Arts movement, which is interested in cross-pollination, as they say, between the different arts. It's not just speculative fiction scholar Brian McHale suggests that since the 1950s, there has been influence back and forth between mimetic/mainstream literature and science fiction.although for the first couple decades, each was looking not at contemporary but older phases of the other. They finally caught up with each other both started looking at contemporary manifestations of the other in the 1970s or so (228). Today, this back-and-forth influence is visible in contemporary mimetic fiction like that of Thomas Pynchon and William Burroughs, Angela Carter, and in Vladimir Nabokov's Ada, Ada, as McHale points out, and I'd suggest also Kurt Vonnegut and Don DeLillo and others besides. Perhaps cross-pollination can also be seen between fantasy and mainstream literatures in the work of Italo Calvino, Jorge Luis Borges, in Gabriel Garcia Marquez's magical realism, and in works such as Toni Morrison's as McHale points out, and I'd suggest also Kurt Vonnegut and Don DeLillo and others besides. Perhaps cross-pollination can also be seen between fantasy and mainstream literatures in the work of Italo Calvino, Jorge Luis Borges, in Gabriel Garcia Marquez's magical realism, and in works such as Toni Morrison's Beloved Beloved and Leslie Marmon Silko's and Leslie Marmon Silko's Ceremony, Ceremony, to name a very few. Mainstream and speculative fictions are merging to where some points overlap. I believe the New Weird is an example of that process. More specifically, the New Weird constitutes a unique moment or position in which overlapping speculative genres also overlap with mainstream literature. to name a very few. Mainstream and speculative fictions are merging to where some points overlap. I believe the New Weird is an example of that process. More specifically, the New Weird constitutes a unique moment or position in which overlapping speculative genres also overlap with mainstream literature.

So, to me, the New Weird represents a productive experiment in fantasy fiction. The New Wave of the 1960s and 1970s arguably embodied science fiction's claim to literary "seriousness." This desire for seriousness is not snobbery, as sometimes suggested by folks who overemphasize the entertainment function of speculative fiction; it's about recognition of the vast possibilities within the field. To this end, one thing that has been productive about the New Weird is its salient critical function (and the attention to style and quality of writing certainly does not hurt). This is not to say, of course, that fantasy before this point had no critical function, or inspired writing, for that matter fantasy has always been as capable as mainstream fiction of being serious-minded, contemplative, artful, and visionary. Rather, what is useful here for fantasy as a literature is the conversation New Weird has incited about the critical role fantasy can play, if its readers and writers choose, and the genre's capacity for creative brilliance. True, the conversation about New Weird has turned some people off for various reasons; but in the meantime, for others, I think it's expanded what we as a community say say fantasy can do. It's about the narrative of this genre, not the actuality of it. fantasy can do. It's about the narrative of this genre, not the actuality of it.