Viriconium
M. John Harrison
Omnibus Ed. 2005
Viriconium, I think, is an extraordinary work of speculative fiction. In this omnibus collection, all of M. John Harrison’s works on Viriconium are present: three short novels and a fistful of stories. Beginning with the novel, The Pastel City, Harrison gradually reveals a startling city known as Viriconium, a city that, rendered in Harrison’s exquisite prose, is unlike any city we’ve ever imagined. The book is about ancient kingdoms and raging wars, of forgotten artifacts and perilous journeys. Viriconium, the last of the Afternoon cultures—that city that is really two cities superimposed over each other—is depicted as a crumbling empire, poised and ready to expire with its decaying culture and fading history. And in the end, Harrison portrays Viriconium as only a wisp of imagination, so that by the end of the story we realize that the Pastel City is actually a deceptive doppelganger of London, England.
But there is also a strange music to the narrative. Like the very best works of fiction, the story itself is only part of what makes the book so remarkable. Language is equally important, how the words are strung together, the emotions they evoke, the imagery that is conjured up. Every time I sat down to continue reading the book, I found myself slipping into a dreamlike trance. The descriptions are pungent and intoxicating, the language so lushly baroque and fascinating that my thoughts began to move in a slow and stuporous fashion, much like in a dream.
How should we classify Viriconium? Science fiction? Fantasy? Both and neither. There is no sorcery or spell casting. Nothing of the formulaic spaceship odyssey. Yet, we find curious aircrafts whose technology was lost millennia ago; we encounter two wanton young men, brothers, who are actually wayward gods or demiurges, a vile swamp beast, insects with heads as large as a human torso, and a mysterious old man who lives alone in a tower by the sea. The skin on his face is yellow and thin, like wax paper stretched tightly over his bones, and he cannot remember how old he is, though in the vast stores beneath his tower, he has kept personal records that date back ten thousand years. Essentially, the book transcends genre. It is as literary and thought-provoking as any work of mainstream fiction.
Harrison is obviously very much influenced by Jack Vance, particularly The Dying Earth cycle. In turn Harrison’s Viriconium has influenced many later writers, and strands of Viriconium can be glimpsed in the imaginary cities of writers such as China Mieville’s New Crobuzon (Perdido Street Station) and Jeff VanderMeer’s Ambergris (City of Saints and Madmen) and K.J. Bishop’s Copper Country (The Etched City).
Reading Viriconium is truly a rare pleasure. I plan on revisiting it often, and am excited about discovering new things each time. Viriconium is not very everyone. It is not for those who do not exult in rich, beautiful prose, or delight in the unusual. The writing is demanding, like any classic, but in the end, it is immeasurably more rewarding.
