We are returned to Priest's 'Dream Archipelago' for this novel, which traces the career of composer Alesando Sussken, from his early life in the military dictatorship of the Republic of Glaund - one of the protagonists in the global war that the islands of the Archipelago are neutral in - through his growth as a composer, and then his life-changing trip with a cultural delegation around the islands of the Archipelago. How that trip changes him, both of the better and for the worse, is the substance of the book. Along the way, we discover more of how the temporal vortices affect those who travel between islands, and how more experienced travellers deal with this. (Of course, this may or may not have any bearing on other Priest stories that happen to be set in the Dream Archipelago; that is in the nature of things.)

The sense of life amongst the islands of the Archipelago is just as strong here, and it is contrasted with life in Glaund, an Orwellian grey townscape of concrete, industrial decay and deadening conformity. Sussken takes inspiration for his music from distant views of an offshore island that his government prefers not to talk about; he can only take that so far until his tour. Glaund also affects him in other ways; he has an encounter with the Generalissima of the military regime who commissions a work from him. The parallels between Sussken's situation and that of Shostakovich faced with demands from Stalin for uplifting music in the service of the State, are clear.

Sussken notes, though, that prolonged exposure to the Archipelago seems to make other composers adopt more populist themes, based around folk tunes and popular marches. That he reacts against this suggests that he feels unwilling to compromise his art (though readers may reflect that this never stopped Charles Ives or Gustav Mahler incorporating such themes in their symphonies). When the Generalissima sets out the requirements for the work she commissions from Sussken, he is dismayed to find these to be the elements she demands. But as so often, it's "art for art's sake, but money for God's sake", which lands Sussken in more trouble.

The denouement ties up all sorts of loose ends, though it would not be possible without the extraordinary nature of the Dream Archipelago It is satisfying, and (unusually for Priest) has a little humour in it (also be alert for a northern English Easter egg slipped into the text). There is also a reference to one of the earlier Dream Archipelago stories, but that only adds to the sense of dislocation rather than binding the stories together in any way. This was most likely Priest's intention.

As ever, the writing makes the events clear and the story holds together well, despite the complexities of the plot. The world of the Dream Archipelago is not out world, but neither is it at all alien. This is where the strength of the novel lies, in making the setting familiar and yet not familiar. Recommended. ( )

Hmmmmm what to make of it? I'm not sure. The prose is as assured as ever, and the premise is beguiling, but it doesn't seem to lead anywhere. Either that or I completely missed the point. I enjoyed reading it, but I'm not totally sure why.

Different. ( )

http://speculiction.blogspot.com/2019/02/review-of-gradual-by-christopher-priest... ( )

A mind expander and a mind blower. After reading and reviewing Inverted World, The Affirmation, The Prestige, The Islanders, The Space Machine, The Glamour, I was wondering if Christopher Priest would continue to amaze and confound. He did! Matter of fact, The Gradual might count as one of the most memorable, magical and beautiful novels I’ve encountered. Here are a number of highlights:

Island World: We are on a planet very much like Earth with our familiar modern technology, things like automobiles, computers, email and cell phones but with one colossal difference in geography: rather than continents, there are thousands and thousands of islands, some as large as Madagascar but most small, even tiny, spread across the oceans.

Alesandro Sussken, music man: Our first person narrator begins his story when a boy on a northern island, the Republic of Glaund. The most important part of Sandro’s life is music – he is a gifted classical composer and highly accomplished musician, playing both piano and violin. Sandro’s reflections and inspirations on everything musical adds great charm and lyricism. “The Archipelago was in my dreams, and every morning I would rise from my bed and go straight to the piano, trying to capture, define, describe, use the fleeting impressions, the unreliable memories of the music of my dreams."

Alesandro Sussken, adventurer: We follow Sandro over the course of years, exploring the islands south of Glaund, first as part of a tour group of musicians and then on his own. And his story covers the long arch of his life: we join Sandro at various points up until he is a man in his mid-fifties. One vital reason propelling his journey: discovering the fate of his long lost brother Jacj who was drafted into the army to fight in the endless, nonstop war with Faiandland, an island to the south.

Music of the Islands: Both on his home island of Glaund and on the islands to the south, music of every variety is played - classical, jazz, rock - which leads to a number of Sandro’s musing on the ways in which a creative artist's memory and inspiration are affected and shaped by a specific location. One musician Sandro attempts to seek out: a leader of a rock group, And Ante, who stole Sandro’s musical melodies and ideas for his own rock music.

Nightmares: Island paradises complete with balmy winds, pristine beaches, gentle valleys and unspoiled mountains form most but not all of this world. At one point Sandro is brought before a woman his despises, the Generalissima who has headed up a brutal, murderous junta on his home island. At another time, on his afternoon stroll on an island, he enters an empty town and witnesses a young man, probably a deserter from his unit (there are many military deserters on the islands), nearly beaten to death by soldiers and then dragged off. Like our own world, life on the islands is a mixture of the good, the bad and the ugly.

Shock of the Weird – Similar to the other Christopher Priest novels I’ve read, The Gradual contains an abrupt, uncanny break from the “normal” laws of nature - at first eerie and then alarming shifts, all revolving around the clock. Sandro finds himself out of sync, either lagging behind or mysteriously moved into the future. Our first real foreshadowing of time playing games happens at one of the symphony’s rehearsals when there’s a problem with uneven tempi - the percussionists claim the orchestra was constantly slipping behind them.

Clarity: The British author’s virtuosity as a storyteller shines through in the way he presents bizarre time shifts without confusing his readers. We might think scrambling past, present and future would be baffling but it is not. Even someone like myself new to science fiction and novels of time travel, Sandro’s story is as clear as one of the island's fresh mountain streams.

Waking Dream, Nighttime Dream: Is some or all of what Sandro reports happening in everyday waking time or in dreamtime? If you are familiar with the film Body Double you have a sense as to what I’m referring. Then again, since when reading a novel we always create a moving picture in our mind of characters and setting, events and conversations, in the end, does it truly matter? ( )

This is quite an enjoyable read but is light on surprises and the all important 'Priest effect', that sense that something incredible is not only happening but has probably been happening all along without your prior knowledge. It is clear from the start that the permutations in the time balance of the Dream Archipelago are going to cause problems, but the situations that arise are embedded in long episodes that seem to be of little consequence. Perhaps I'll enjoy it more with a second reading but my current hope is that Christopher Priest avoids the Dream Archipelago setting entirely for his next book, or at least tackles it in a fresh way (like he did so successfully in The Islanders). ( )