Pavane
Keith Roberts
Alternate
history is now one of the most popular sub-genres in the SF field, but
that popularity is a recent development. And the recent crop of
alternate history stories, enjoyable as some of them may be, seem
largely minor works, often overly concerned either with playing silly
games (either "identify the change point" or "spot the historical
character in a different role"), or with rewriting history to either
rectify a past mistake or warn of a danger averted.
The shadows of two great AH novels of the 60s loom over the
present-day offerings, both books with their ambition and success,
and their moral centre, trivializing the current work. These are
Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle(1963), winner of
the Hugo Award, and Keith Roberts' Pavane. They represent two
of what I imagine are the three most popular branch points for AH:
Dick's book is about a world in which the Allies lost World War II,
and Roberts' book is about a world in which the Spanish Armada was
not defeated, and Catholicism's influence was not diminished by
Protestantism. (The third popular branch point, of course, is to
have the South win the Civil War: and the significant early AH
featuring that is Ward Moore's Bring the Jubilee.) Dick's
novels of late are widely available, but the work of Roberts, who
died last year, has long been hard to find. But now Orion via their
SF Masterworks series and Del Rey, as part of their praiseworthy new
Impact line of trade paperbacks, have reissued Pavane.
This
novel is composed of a brief prologue, indicating the "branch point,"
followed by six "measures," novelette- or novella-length sections,
beginning in 1968 and carrying the story forward several decades. Each
measure is a self-contained story, but there are also links between
them, particularly three stories which follow three generations of the
Strange family. Finally, a Coda serves to cast the entire story in a
somewhat different light -- for one thing, technically removing it
from the strict "Alternate History" subgenre, and also commenting on
the central conflicts of the story.
The mood overall is rather dark, though flashes of brightness and
joy light the pages. Roberts' Catholic-dominated England, or Angle
Land, is rather backwards technologically, as the Church carefully
vets all scientific and technological knowledge, rejecting some
advances and delaying others. Thus the opening measure, "The Lady
Margaret," depicts a young man, Jesse Strange, who has just inherited
his father's hauling business. But instead of internal combustion
driven trucks, he uses steam engines pulling trains of wagons over
roads (not rails). This is a chancy and dangerous but also romantic
technology. Similarly, the second measure, "The Signaller," tells of a
young man who dreams of becoming a member of the Guild of Signallers,
who operate the network of semaphore towers that transmit messages
across the land, in place of telephones or even telegraphs, given that
electricity, though known, is banned. Roberts' detailed descriptions
of both sorts of old-fashioned technology are intriguing and, as I
said, rather romantic. At the same time it is clear that people are
poorer and hungrier and fewer because of this retarded development --
but there is throughout an ambiguity about the depiction of this
alternate present which is only intensified by Roberts' coda.
Pavane is set at a time of subdued unrest -- the heavy hand
of the Church on Angle Land is clearly resented, and this resentment
is seen to spread throughout society as the book unfolds. The opening
story deals with a prosperous and hardworking businessman, who must
work with and around Churchly taxation and technological restrictions.
That's a side issue to his personal story, though, as he takes his
train on the last trip before winter closes the roads one year,
worries about outlaws, and finds a reason to visit a barmaid he has
long fancied, and also encounters an old school friend. Both meetings
have momentous results, and change his life profoundly. "The
Signaller" follows, a stark, sad, beautiful story of the title
character's successful struggle to become a Signaller, and the violent
fate that awaits him on his first solo assignment, as well as the
mysterious person he encounters alone in the back woods. "Brother
John" introduces us to a monk, an accomplished artist, who is
radicalized when he is forced to record in his drawings the efforts of
an "inquisitor" to torture the "truth" out of a crop of suspected
sinners, and who almost by accident starts a grassroots rebellion.
"Lords and Ladies" takes up with the Strange family again, as
Jesse's niece, prosperous as a result of Jesse's hard work, meets a
charismatic scion of the local noble family. This story shows the
class structure of this alternate England effectively, and sets the
scene, as it were, for the conclusion. But next is the mystical "The
White Boat," in which a simple fishergirl becomes obsessed with the
title vessel on its repeated visits to her home cove. Finally, in
"Corfe Gate," Jesse Strange's great-niece, ruler of a castle, finds
herself pushed to open resistance to the harsh rule of Rome, and with
the help of her mysterious seneschal, John Faulkner, starts a
country-wide rebellion, with bitter if ambiguous results.
This remains a remarkable novel, beautifully written and unexpected
in its working out. The characters come fully to life. The hints of
mysterious elements working in the background add a special resonance
to the book. The book asks interesting questions about the working out
of history -- and if it suggests answers that a reader might not agree
with, it does not compel agreement, but rather it compels thinking. It
has been rightly regarded as a classic of our field from its first
publication, and these new editions provide a fine occasion either to
discover it for the first time, or to reread it once again.
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