The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit, Wraeththu #1 by Storm Constantine

I won't lie. I miss Storm Constantine something fierce. She was an incredible and largely underrated force as an author, editor, and publisher, and it was an incredible experience for me to have been able to work with her on many stories for her Wraeththu mythos. (The only thing that would top this for me is if I could embark on a spot of necromancy and raise JRR Tolkien from the dead, or if I ever had the chance to work with Neil Gaiman.) I miss talking to Storm about writing, about her worlds, and miss the insights she had in my own, and I guess that's why I've picked up the Wraeththu books again, specifically because I've yet to reread the ones that she revised since she initially published them after their rights reverted to her. I wish I could talk to her again, so revisiting her writing is the only way I'll be able to have any form of dialogue with her again.

The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit is the first book in her Wraeththu mythos, and for those who are new to the setting, I'll give the *very* brief introduction: Humanity has failed and a new species is rising out of its demise – the androgynous Wraeththu, who combine both male and female traits in one body, are completely gender-fluid, and who unlike humans, can wield magic. In that regards, the story, when it first came out in 1987, was ahead of its time if we consider some of the fantasy that we see today.

We start book one with Pell, who is a very human young man, working on his family's farm somewhere on the American continent. His world is narrow and sheltered, and while he's aware that things are not so great beyond the fields where he works, and that the Wraeththu stalking the ruined cities are something to fear, he is much loved. 

And perhaps, if Cal – one of the fabled Wraeththu – had not stumbled upon Pell's home when he did, it would have been another Wraeththu. Perhaps one not quite as kind as Cal. Though calling Cal kind is a bit of a stretch – he has ulterior motives and can be rather self-centred. So, in a tale as old as time, Pell runs away with the fey creature, and discovers what it is like to be incepted into the Wraeththu, who divide themselves into tribes, and whose development as individuals is arranged along a caste system as they become more magically adept.

We discover a world made anew out of the bones of the old, and the Wraeththu are still trying to figure things out – some more successfully than others, who appear to be doomed to repeat the same mistakes humankind made. With an edgy, almost punk-ish, post-apocalyptic and trans-human flavour, this tale is divided into two sections. I won't go into too much detail to spare you the spoilers, suffice to say that the first half is more travelogue and origin story for Pell's coming into being, while the second is a somewhat bitter acceptance of an inescapable fate caught up in another's machinations. So very much a bildungsroman for Pell and a suitable introduction to the setting for those with the stamina to tackle further books. 

I'll be honest. The Wraeththu mythos is not for everyone. I've always maintained that Storm is more an author concerned with painting mood, texture, and atmosphere rather than meticulously plotting and executing a perfect story. If you are looking for stock-standard romances, rather look elsewhere. Yes, there is sensuality at times, and love often fierce, but sentimentality has no place here. This story is about Storm exploring her world and the characters who populate it – so in that regard her work does bear a passing similarity to JRR Tolkien's in terms of motivation for writing. But knowing her as I do, she'd probably be a bit annoyed by the comparison to Tolkien's Middle-Earth.

I love Storm's writing for the moods she evokes, the often otherworldly, ethereal landscapes she paints, and the lush, often narcotic descriptions that add substance to her tales that underpin a keen understanding of magic and the mythologies that often underpin it.