Kai Ashante Wilson‘s The Sorcerer of the Wildeeps (2015) is a book in grave danger of being overly and overtly pigeon-holed, which makes it hard to write about. On the one hand, it’s easy to focus on it’s Afrocentric focus, especially the dialog, as his juxtaposition of a variety of African-American patter (contemporary urban, southern, even a Francophone patois) in a fantasy setting is striking, and highly successful. But that would obscure the larger brilliance of this short book, which lies along two axes.
First, there is the language, and the way Ashante Wilson’s sentences fracture and reform. This is sparkling, effervescent writing, full of surprising moments of linguistic creativity. It doesn’t work one hundred percent of the time, but when it does, it manages to dance that fine line between a page-turning romp set at the boundaries of magic and science and a work focused on literary creativity and innovation.
Second, and even more importantly, the two central characters are sketched with such compassion that their interactions are delightful, and their love affair compelling. Each are demigods, much-removed descendants from families of deities. Their affection for each other, as well as their supernatural powers, must be concealed in public throughout the novel, which is handled deftly and realistically: their surreptitious embraces are all the more sweet, which is well conveyed.
This book left me wanting more: more of Ashante Wilson’s voice, more diversity in the genres in general, and more of this specific world–the history is tantalizing, and the setting could easily hold further adventures.
Again, it is a genre novel, but if the genre appeals, it is highly recommended.
#WhatIWishICouldDo
The creativity of the language sparkles. I am often struck by how grammar-bound I am: some freedom and creativity along those dimensions could serve me well.