Tim Powers, Past and Present

[The Drawing of the Dark (1979)] “was the first Tim Powers book I ever read, and I can’t say I was very impressed. Oh, all the great elements of a Powers tale were there. The weaving and the blending weren’t quite yet tight enough, though, and there were a few of the strands (like the Vikings) that I thought were a little forced. Still, it was good enough so that when I heard the word about The Anubis Gates I gave that a shot. A Del Rey book, but his other works were from Ace after it.” That’s what I said for my assessment of the book here on this blog. I can now say a little more.

Powers has stated several times in interviews that Dark was written for what was proposed to be an entire series (written by various authors and to be set in various times, including the future) about Arthur Reborn. The plan collapsed, but Powers was left with what became his breakaway novel, widely applauded and truly establishing his reputation after his first two obscure productions for Lancer.

I was looking at my growing shelf of Powers books and noticing my lone Del Rey paperback representing in its number. I hadn’t re-visited it again for many years and became curious how it would read after all the Powers that had developed since. I knew that it had been re-issued in a trade paperback as a Del Rey Impact, volumes that had a special influence on the books that came after them. A quick look on Amazon showed copies very reasonably priced, so I decided it was time to upgrade and reread. No sooner said than done.

I’m finding the reread a curious experience. I know nothing has changed, but I find myself taking it more seriously. Elements in it remain almost stereotypically flavored of early Eighties fantasy and many terms and turns of phrase seem historically inappropriate, but the strong bones of what make a good Powers’ novel are all there. Perhaps not having that characteristically period fantasy novel cover by Doug Beekman (replaced by the gravitas of a woodcut style illustration) also helps me think of it differently. As it is, I am re-adjusting my assessment, mostly for the better, as I go along.

Stolen Skies (2022) is the third volume in Tim Powers’ Vickery and Castine books. UFOs are real, but not only are they not what crackpot ufologists think they are, they are not even what the government (which has been sowing disinformation for decades) believe them to be. When Naval Intelligence supposes ex-agent Sebastian Vickery has become privy to information that threatens their plans, they send his old partner Ingrid Castine (who has managed somehow to stay just inside this side of the law) to contact, arrest, and, if necessary, eliminate him.

Castine, of course, has no intention of doing so and plans to covertly warn him away. Intelligence hopes to lure Vickery in with a fake UFO crash, but things become complicated when a genuine appearance of dozens of silver spheres appear at the site, whizzing around at physically impossible speeds and vanishing just as inexplicably as they came.

Vickery and Castine escape in the chaos that ensues, pursued by another government agent and a Russian agent who has been left over from the Cold War. Helped by their teenage acquaintance Santiago (a boy of many talents), they go in search of an old employee of Area 51 who may actually hold the information Intelligence is seeking. The six uncover the imminent danger that threatens the entire earth and must band together to evade the earthly forces seeking them and prevent the destruction of life as they know it … all by noon the next day.

I enjoyed this book quite a bit; the ideas are intriguing, the action exciting, the characters engaging. If anything, it is too short and might have benefited with a little more fleshing out, as Powers is entering territory that is not as familiar as his other themes.  If there is one bit, though, that I find personally a little irksome, and that is when Powers gets ‘narratively recursive’ as he explains history and backstories from the previous books in the series. I’m sure that’s to make things more explicable to readers coming to Vickery and Castine for the first time, to entice them to the earlier volumes, and to remind us of what’s gone before. It slows things down just a tad for one familiar with the details and eager to get on with the gripping tale; but it is, after all, merely momentary occasions. More power to Powers!