Just plain excellent
In these days of anodyne pap that is lauded as ‘literary fiction’ by people not old enough to have more than a few hundred books, it is a real joy to find a piece of sustained exploratory fiction.
I’m not going to tell you what the book is about – read it and decide for yourself. And don’t expect the author to spoon feed you either. He treats his readers as intelligent beings who are canny enough to negotiate the complex narrative.
For me, writing is a true form of magic. Not the spotty boy wizard kind of escapism (which is on much the same level as what passes for literature these days), but an elemental magic that is both powerful and subtle. It is the source code of our modern being, shaping our thought and our actions. And it deserves to be explored far beyond the narrow confines of the likes of the redtop press and smart society middle-class literature, much as it was in the ‘New Wave’ during the 1960s and 70s, much as it is here in this novel.
Indeed, it is works that are both entertaining and mind bending that shine the brightest light into the shadowy core of our being, allowing us to come to know ourselves better, understand more clearly how we are made and how we work and through that agency, letting us become wiser beings.
It takes a bit of effort to follow the strands of the narrative, but you are rewarded all the more. And if all this sort of thing is new to you, seek out the authors who made and surfed that wave – Mike Butterworth included. You will find writing that is as deeply moving and satisfying as the best of the modernists, surrealists, absurdists, and magical realists ever produced. Before you do that, however, start here. It really is an excellent book.
To view the Amazon description of My Servant the Wind, please click the cover image: