So I’ve never read “magical realism” before, and that’s a term I hear applied to Salman Rushdie’s new book Two Years Eight Months and Twenty-Eight Nights  often. Is it a book with a realistic setting except with a few splashes of magic? I’ll go look it up….

And I’m back. Ok, so the term “magical realism” originated around the 1950’s to describe an art style that depicted supernatural elements in a mundane way. But when the term is applied to literature, it means pretty much what I guessed above. I have also come across the term “urban fantasy”, and that’s somehow a completely different thing? So just how broadly does this term apply? I thought of Harry Potter as a fantasy book, but given the definitions I’ve seen, does this make it technically magical realism?

Now I’m hopelessly confused. If there’s anyone out there who can explain this to me, please come to Lemuria and help a bookseller out.

Enough about genre, let’s get to the story!

Rushdie’s new novel is narrated by beings 1000 years after the events of the story, and so you don’t get any up close, personal accounts of the characters, but distant recollections of events. Since I enjoy reading history books, I felt right at home with this. I feel like some readers might find this point of view a bit dry, since in fantasy we’re used to knowing the minds of our hero. But give the story time, it’ll grow on you.

Basically, there is another reality called Peristan which is inhabited by supernatural beings called the jinn, who occasionally slip into our world to cause chaos or bless humans. Long ago, a jinn named Dunia fell for a mortal man, and together they had a ton of kids over the span of two years, eight months, and twenty-eight nights. (Which makes a total of 1,001 nights, in case you didn’t catch the reference.) Dunia’s lover eventually died, and Dunia returned to Peristan, and left all of her kids behind.

Skip ahead to years later, and random people all around the world begin to realize they have strange abilities (a gardener begins to levitate at will, a baby can detect the inner corruption of others, etc.). Of course these people are not random, and as descendants of Dunia they will be the only hope to face an oncoming war upon earth by the dark jinn.

This book is full of references to Arabic mythology (which is so much fun to do further research on while you read this book!) and pop culture. There’s also a lot of underlying themes about migration, religion, and science. The writing style is also so tongue-in- cheek that it does not feel pretentious, but rather hilarious in parts.

I’m in the midst of my senior year in college, and I definitely needed some nice fantasy to escape into. Except, this didn’t feel like pure escapism, like I was doing mindless fun reading; starting Rushdie’s book made me feel like I was stumbling onto something huge and grand.

Lawrence Norfolk was at Lemuria for his release of John Saturnall’s Feast in September 2012. Norfolk and a few Lemurians were chatting about how many authors start off from foggy obscurity—like J K Rowling–writing novels on the napkins of their dayjobs. Norfolk spoke of David Mitchell in the same mythic proportions.  He told the booksellers that he was one of the first readers of Mitchell’s Ghostwritten, and was among the first to realize that Ghostwritten was much more than short stories; rather, it is a novel with a contiguous plot told through subtly connected narratives.

“Everyone of these pages deserves and demands to be read and re-read. Ghostwritten is an astonishing debut.”- Lawrence Norfolk’s Ghostwritten promotion.

Mitchell has become a master since Norfolk was asked to blurb Ghostwritten. The advance reader copies of Ghostwritten have become a collector’s item with a heavy price tag.

“Grief’s an amputation, but hope’s incurable haemophilia: you bleed and bleed and bleed. Like Schrödinger’s cat but with a box you can never get open.” – overheard at the Fox and Hounds concerning a friend’s disappearance near Slade House

Mitchell’s new novel, Slade House, proves to me that he is capable of creating entire worlds. Just as Tolkien enamored the post-war world in his immersive creation of Middle Earth, or how Rowling immersed an entire generation of the world’s youth in Hogwarts—Slade House returns us to Mitchell’s immersive world of atemporality. Atemporals are people (or entities) that are able to transcend the bonds of a physical body. They are capable of a range of powers that would make both Sith and Jedi envious.

“When you die, your soul crosses the dusk between life and the blank sea. The journey takes forty-nine days, but there’s no wifi there, so to speak. So, no messages can be sent.” – Fred Pink interview at Fox and Hounds, just a block away from Slade Alley

Slade House is a return to the same eternal tug of war between the vampiric Anchorites and the psychosetaric telepaths that walk the shaded path. The prose within Slade House is doubly chilling and entrancing. The plot is an Escharian labyrinth: relentlessly moving forward but inevitably returning in circular motions. The story gains velocity through Mitchell’s agile cultural awareness and maneuverable wit.

“This is all getting a bit too Da’vinci Code.”- overheard at Fox and Hounds

The most appealing thing about Slade House is that it’s a great place to start reading Mitchell. It’s a quick read, and much more approachable than The Bone Clocks. If you’re new to the author, pick this book up and introduce yourself to one of the developing legends of contemporary fiction. Let Slade House give you chills like any good ghost story should.

If you’re returning to reading Mitchell, get yourself excited for the return of enigmatic figures such as Enomoto and Marinus. Take another look at The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet for some extra Slade House goodies.

If you’re a scaredy-cat, this isn’t the book for you. The pages will give you unavoidable goosebumps. This is a ghost story perfect for a spooky Halloween read.