There are authors who stick to what they know, carving out careful niches for themselves. And then there are the ones who obliterate boundaries.
Tanith Lee was in the second camp. An eclectic and prolific writer, she penned more than 90 novels and hundreds of short stories, ranging from fantasy and science fiction to horror, erotica, mysteries and historical fiction. She gloriously reimagined classic myths and imbued her prose with a rich, poetic lushness.
Lee was ahead of her time in so many ways. Her explorations of feminism and gender issues, her complex queer characters and her mordant humor give her work a fresh and vital feel. In “Don’t Bite the Sun” (1976), young people live in a world where robots cater to their every whim. If they die, they can be resurrected, and choose whether to inhabit a male or female body. This kind of gender fluidity is natural in Lee’s fiction — not something to fear, as it is in Robert Silverberg’s “Son of Man” (1971), where a 20th-century man catapulted into the future is horrified when he temporarily changes genders. Instead, Lee frames it as a natural part of her characters’ search for meaning and answers.
Born in 1947 in London to a pair of professional ballroom dancers, Lee began by writing children’s fiction. Her breakout book, an adult fantasy novel called “The Birthgrave,” came out in 1975. (Its publication “enabled me finally to stop doing stupid and soul-killing jobs, and start working day and night as a professional writer,” she said.) Lee published steadily for the next two decades, accumulating accolades along the way; she was the first woman to win a British Fantasy Award, in 1980.
But by the mid-1990s, big publishers, unable to pigeonhole her work, found it increasingly difficult to market her books and began turning away from her.
“If anyone ever wonders why there’s nothing coming from me, it’s not my fault. I’m doing the work …. The indication is that I’m not writing what people want to read, but I never did,” she told Locus magazine in 1998.
In the decade since Lee’s death, her books have become easier to find. And last year, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association gave her the Infinity Award, which honors creators who died before they could be considered for the group’s lifetime achievement award.
The time is ripe for a Tanith Lee rediscovery. But with such a vast body of work, where do you begin?
I adored “Nosferatu.” Got any books like that?
Whether you’ve just discovered the Gothic bone in your body, or you’ve always been a fan of the children of the night, you’ll find much to explore in Lee’s lush stories and novels. She wrote plenty of books about vampires (like 1980’s “Sabella, or The Blood Stone”) and werewolves (like “Lycanthia, or The Children of Wolves” in 1990), but Lee is at her most Gothic with THE SECRET BOOKS OF PARADYS, four volumes set in the darkly romantic city of Paradys.
The series, which begins with a collection of three linked novellas called “The Book of the Damned” (1988), is a delicious mix of debauchery and decadence, bringing us Paradys — a sort of alternate version of Paris — at different points in its history, from the days when it functioned as a Roman fort to its more modern incarnations. In Paradys you’ll find feverish, erotic encounters with ancient demons; scarab rings that may confer immortality; fair maidens who transform into weasels; and even a mysterious ice labyrinth. Explore its secrets at your own peril.
I want dark fantasy — the darker, the better
Lee often riffed on classic fairy tales, which you can find in collections like “Red as Blood, or Tales From the. Sisters Grimmer” (1983). Her Tales From the Flat Earth series does not retell specific fairy tales, but paging through its volumes will give you “One Thousand and One Nights” vibes. In the first installment, NIGHT’S MASTER (1978), she introduces Azhrarn, the Prince of Demons, who toys with kings and paupers alike. These linked stories play out in a luxurious fantasy tapestry tinged with desire, fear and wonder. There are powerful magicians who engage in titanic battles, lavish kingdoms built under the sea and earth and powerful supernatural entities who beguile and corrupt the unwary.
One of the charms of the narrative is that Lee can make you believe that what you are reading is an authentic ancient legend rather than a new invention. You will be richly rewarded if you venture into Flat Earth.
I love high fantasy adventure
By reimagining well-known narratives, Lee often makes us consider the way women are represented in fiction — and how we respond to them as readers. In “White as Snow” (2000), for example, Snow White’s evil stepmother is reframed as a war captive who was violated, traumatized and forced into marriage with Snow White’s father, the king.
THE BIRTHGRAVE (1975), the first volume in a trilogy, begins as a woman wakes up inside a dormant volcano without any knowledge of who she is and, guided by a mysterious voice, embarks on a quest to discover her powers. This is a classic sword-and-sorcery adventure that also manages to completely reimagine the subgenre, which, when Lee was writing, usually starred men.
Lee’s heroine defies easy categorization. She is not a thrilling Red Sonja type, dispatching enemies with a sword, nor are her unusual powers — she can heal even fatal injuries — enough to protect her from the greed and ambitions of men. By turns, she becomes a pawn, a goddess, a courtesan and ultimately a survivor.
Lee’s dazzling adult debut showcases what would become the hallmarks of her fiction: an opulently imagined fantasy world, rich emotional understanding of her characters and ambitious, often risky writing with a handsome payoff at the end.
Oh, and I’m calling this fantasy, but you could also say it’s science fiction. You’ll have to read it to find out why.
I’m a hopeless romantic
In an era in which people can fall in love with ChatGPT, having the hots for an artificial guy may not seem as far-fetched as it did when THE SILVER METAL LOVER was first published in 1981.
Lee had a talent for creating flawed, frustrating characters and Jane, the young woman at the heart of “The Silver Metal Lover,” is a great example. Pampered and vapid, constantly disagreeing with her mother, Jane inhabits a decadent future world; she’s unbearably lonely until she meets and falls in love with a silver-skinned musician robot.
It’s the moment when she makes her first bold decision — to run away with the robot — that we become invested in her as a reader.
This is a story of first love, but also of awakenings and beginnings. I should note that although, it may have many trappings of young-adult fiction — such as a pair of star-crossed young lovers — “The Silver Metal Lover” is not shy about sex and would probably not be categorized as Y.A. today.
But she did also write young-adult fiction, right?
Yes! THE CLAIDI JOURNALS, a quartet of young adult novels, begins with “Law of the Wolf Tower” (1998) and concludes with “Wolf Wing” (2002). Claidi, a teenage girl, toils as a servant in an isolated manor called the House. Her unhappy life of Cinderella-like drudgery comes to an abrupt end when a handsome young man crashes a hot-air balloon in the garden and helps her escape. Thus begins a series of adventures that Claidi narrates in her journals as she discovers the wonders of the outside world, searches for her origins and finds love.
Some of the elements of Claidi’s world, such as the existence of airships, verge on steampunk, but there is also magic here with a completely different vibe. Lee was never afraid to mix and match to create the picture that she wanted. This fast-paced series serves as a perfect introduction to her lighter, more playful side.
I don’t have time for a series! Give me something short.
Try the science-fiction novella ELECTRIC FOREST (1979). In a world in which reproduction is controlled by the government and practically everyone is beautiful and flawless, Magdala is an outcast, shunned for her birth defects and dwelling in misery. Claudio, an elusive, incredibly rich man, gives her a chance to transfer her consciousness into a beautiful body while her old self is left in suspended animation in a tank. But Claudio demands a steep price for such a gift and, if her original body is damaged, Magdala will die.
Does this sound a bit like the plot of “The Substance”? Maybe — but concerns about bodily autonomy, beauty and power never die. At points, “Electric Forest” plays like a futuristic Gothic novel, but it also has elements of “Pygmalion,” a bit of psychosexual manipulation and even a touch of espionage. Now isn’t that a heady cocktail?
How about something even shorter?
Lee penned a mountain of short stories and published several collections, including one about lesbian relationships called “Fatal Women” (2004), which was written under the pseudonym Esther Garber.
But my favorite collection remains THE GORGON AND OTHER BEASTLY TALES (1985). In the stunning, shocking title story, which won Lee a World Fantasy Award, a tourist visiting Greece is told a medusa inhabits a nearby island. Though the locals try to talk some sense into him, he decides to investigate, swimming over to the island at low tide. There he meets a mysterious woman with a mask and … well, I don’t want to spoil it. This book is a box of literary chocolates, each story a different flavor.
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