Catalogue


Forests of the heart /
Charles de Lint.
imprint
New York : Tor, c2000.
description
397 p. ; 25 cm.
ISBN
0312875681
format(s)
Book
Holdings
More Details
imprint
New York : Tor, c2000.
isbn
0312875681
general note
"A Tom Doherty Associates book."
local note
Fisher copy: Pbk. ed.
catalogue key
5018850
A Look Inside
Awards
This item was nominated for the following awards:
Nebula Awards, USA, 2000 : Nominated
Excerpts
Excerpt from Book
1 Los lobos El lobo pierde los dientes mas no las mientes, The wolf loses his teeth, not his nature. Mexican-American saying Like her sister, Bettina San Miguelwas small, slender woman in her mid-twenties, dark-haired and darker-eyed; partIndio, part Mexican, part something older still. Growing up, they'd often been mistaken for twins, but Bettina was a year younger and, unlike Adelita, she had never learned to forget. The little miracles of the long ago lived on in her, passed down to her from theirabuela, and her grandmother before her. It was a gift that skipped a generation, tradition said. "Tradicion, pah!" their mother was quick to complain when the opportunity arose. "You call it a gift, but I call it craziness." Theirabuelawould nod and smile, but she still took the girls out into the desert, sometimes in the early morning or evening, sometimes in the middle of the night. They would leave empty-handed, be gone for hours and return with full bellies, without thirst. Return with something in their eyes that made their mother cross herself, though she tried to hide the gesture. "They miss too much school," she would say. "Time enough for the Anglos' school when they are older," Abuela replied. "And church? If they die out there with you, their sins unforgiven?" "The desert is our church, its roof the sky. Do you think the Virgin andlossantosignore us because it has no walls? Remember,hija, the Holy Mother was a bride of the desert before she was a bride of the church." Mama would shake her head, muttering, "Nosotras estamos locas todas." We are all crazy. And that would be the end of it. Until the next time. Then Adelita turned twelve and Bettina watched the mysteries fade in her sister's eyes. She still accompanied them into the desert, but now she brought paper and a pencil, and rather than learn the language ofla lagartija, she would try to capture an image of the lizard on her paper. She no longer absorbed the history of the landscape; instead she traced the contours of the hills with the lead in her pencil. When she sawel halconwinging above the desert hills, she saw only a hawk, not abrujoor a mystic like their father, caught deep in a dream of flight. Her own dreams were of boys and she began to wear makeup. All she had learned, she forgot. Not the details, not the stories. Only that they were true. But Bettina remembered. "You taught us both," she said to herabuelaone day when they were alone. They sat stone-still in the shadow cast by a tall saguaro, watching a coyote make its way with delicate steps down a dry wash. "Why is it only I remember?" The coyote paused in mid-step, lifting its head at the sound of her voice, ears quivering, eyes liquid and watchful. "You were the one chosen," Abuela said. The coyote darted up the bank of the wash, through a stand of palo verde trees, and was gone. Bettina turned back to her grandmother. "But why did you choose me?" she asked. "It wasn't for me to decide," Abuela told her. "It was for the mystery. There could only be one of you, otherwisela brujeriawould only be half so potent." "But how can she just forget? You said we were magicthat we werebothmagic." "And it is still true. Adelita won't lose her magic. It runs too deep in her blood. But she won't remember it, not like you do. Not unless...&
First Chapter
1 Los lobos El lobo pierde los dientes mas no las mientes, The wolf loses his teeth, not his nature. Mexican-American saying Like her sister, Bettina San Miguelwas small, slender woman in her mid-twenties, dark-haired and darker-eyed; partIndio, part Mexican, part something older still. Growing up, they'd often been mistaken for twins, but Bettina was a year younger and, unlike Adelita, she had never learned to forget. The little miracles of the long ago lived on in her, passed down to her from theirabuela, and her grandmother before her. It was a gift that skipped a generation, tradition said. "Tradicion, pah!" their mother was quick to complain when the opportunity arose. "You call it a gift, but I call it craziness." Theirabuelawould nod and smile, but she still took the girls out into the desert, sometimes in the early morning or evening, sometimes in the middle of the night. They would leave empty-handed, be gone for hours and return with full bellies, without thirst. Return with something in their eyes that made their mother cross herself, though she tried to hide the gesture. "They miss too much school," she would say. "Time enough for the Anglos' school when they are older," Abuela replied. "And church? If they die out there with you, their sins unforgiven?" "The desert is our church, its roof the sky. Do you think the Virgin andlossantosignore us because it has no walls? Remember,hija, the Holy Mother was a bride of the desert before she was a bride of the church." Mama would shake her head, muttering, "Nosotras estamos locas todas." We are all crazy. And that would be the end of it. Until the next time. Then Adelita turned twelve and Bettina watched the mysteries fade in her sister's eyes. She still accompanied them into the desert, but now she brought paper and a pencil, and rather than learn the language ofla lagartija, she would try to capture an image of the lizard on her paper. She no longer absorbed the history of the landscape; instead she traced the contours of the hills with the lead in her pencil. When she sawel halconwinging above the desert hills, she saw only a hawk, not abrujoor a mystic like their father, caught deep in a dream of flight. Her own dreams were of boys and she began to wear makeup. All she had learned, she forgot. Not the details, not the stories. Only that they were true. But Bettina remembered. "You taught us both," she said to herabuelaone day when they were alone. They sat stone-still in the shadow cast by a tall saguaro, watching a coyote make its way with delicate steps down a dry wash. "Why is it only I remember?" The coyote paused in mid-step, lifting its head at the sound of her voice, ears quivering, eyes liquid and watchful. "You were the one chosen," Abuela said. The coyote darted up the bank of the wash, through a stand of palo verde trees, and was gone. Bettina turned back to her grandmother. "But why did you choose me?" she asked. "It wasn't for me to decide," Abuela told her. "It was for the mystery. There could only be one of you, otherwisela brujeriawould only be half so potent." "But how can she just forget? You said we were magicthat we werebothmagic." "And it is still true. Adelita won't lose her magic. It runs too deep in her blood. But she won't remember it, not like you do. Not unless...&
Full Text Reviews
Appeared in Library Journal on 2000-05-15:
Despite her distance from the southwestern deserts of her childhood, Bettina San Miguel still remembers and practices the old ways taught her by her grandmother and recognizes the presence of the unseen world. Sculptor Ellie Jones does not believe in magic, but her work radiates power. Together with a few other gifted people who reside near the Canadian town of Newford, Bettina and Ellie learn the joys and dangers of crossing the barrier between the mundane world and the bright land of myth that lies just beyond the senses. Blending images from Celtic and Native American myth to create a unique vision of the relationship between artistic creation and the magical energies that permeate the world these characters inhabit, this latest Newford tale from de Lint (Somewhere To Be Flying) is an example of urban fantasy at its very best. Highly recommended. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Appeared in Publishers Weekly on 2000-05-01:
Irish fairies, Native American shape-changers and Africa's Anansi the Spider all meet up as de Lint (The Buffalo Man) weaves a new tale of urban magic, in which a diverse cast of characters learns that all the oldest myths are true. This comes as no surprise to Bettina San Miguel (a Mexican-Indian healer whose power comes from her father, a hawk-spirit), or to Tommy Raven (whose aunts back on the reservation were in regular contact with the spirit world). But Hunter Cole and Ellie Jones, who have never believed in anything supernatural, are shocked to learn that Ellie has enormous magical powers. Conversely, for Miki Greer, the revelation is a horrible confirmation of her Irish father's angry rantings--and a dangerous portent for her brother, Donal, who is involved with the violent "hard men" (displaced Irish spirits, also known as the Gentry and los lobos, looking for a home in America). The "hard men" want to summon a Green Man to fight the native spirits--and they want to use Donal's body to help them do it. Suddenly, the fictional city of Newford is crawling with magic--some hostile, some strangely appealing. And Bettina, Tommy, Hunter and Ellie must stop Donal before it's too late. A leisurely, intriguing expedition into the spirit world, studded with Spanish and Gaelic words and an impressive depth of imagination, de Lint's latest teems with music, danger and a touch of romance. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Reviews
Review Quotes
"De Lint is a romantic; he believes in the great things, faith, hope, and charity (especially if love is included in the last), but he also believes in the power of magic--or at least the magic of fiction--to open our eyes to a larger world." --Edmonton Journal "De Lint is a master of the modern urban folktale." --The Denver Post "In De Lint's capable hands, modern fantasy becomes something other than escapism. It becomes folk song, the stuff of urban myth." --The Phoenix Gazette "De Lint is as engaging a stylist as Stephen King, but considerably more inventive and ambitious." --Toronto Globe and Mail
"De Lint is a romantic; he believes in the great things, faith, hope, and charity (especially if love is included in the last), but he also believes in the power of magic--or at least the magic of fiction--to open our eyes to a larger world." -- Edmonton Journal "De Lint is a master of the modern urban folktale." -- The Denver Post "In De Lint's capable hands, modern fantasy becomes something other than escapism. It becomes folk song, the stuff of urban myth." -- The Phoenix Gazette "De Lint is as engaging a stylist as Stephen King, but considerably more inventive and ambitious." -- Toronto Globe and Mail
This item was reviewed in:
Globe & Mail, July 2000
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Summaries
Main Description
In the Old Country, they called them the Gentry: ancient spirits of the land, magical, amoral, and dangerous. When the Irish emigrated to North America, some of the Gentry followed only to find that the New World already had spirits of its own, the manitou. Now generations have passed, but the Gentry still wander homeless on the city streets. Gathering in the shadows, they bide their time and dream of power. As their dreams grow harder, darker, fiercer, so do the Gentry themselvesappearing, to those with the sight to see them, as hard and dangerous men, invariably dressed in black. Bettina can see them. Part Indian, part Mexican, she was raised to understand the spirit world. Now she lives in wintry Kellygnow, an artists colony a world away from the Southwestern desert of her youth. Outside her nighttime window, she often spies the dark men, squatting in the snow, smoking, brooding, waiting. She calls them los lobos, the wolves, and stays clear of themuntil the night one follows her to the woods, and takes her hand Once again, Charles de Lint weaves the mythic traditions of many cultures into a seamless cloth, bringing folklore, music, and unforgettable characters to life on modern city streets.
Main Description
In the Old Country, they called them the Gentry: ancient spirits of the land, magical, amoral, and dangerous. When the Irish emigrated to North America, some of the Gentry followed...only to find that the New World already had spirits of its own, called manitou and other such names by the Native tribes. Now generations have passed, and the Irish have made homes in the new land, but the Gentry still wander homeless on the city streets. Gathering in the city shadows, they bide their time and dream of power. As their dreams grow harder, darker, fiercer, so do the Gentry themselves--appearing, to those with the sight to see them, as hard and dangerous men, invariably dressed in black. Bettina can see the Gentry, and knows them for what they are. Part Indian, part Mexican, she was raised by her grandmother to understand the spirit world. Now she lives in Kellygnow, a massive old house run as an arts colony on the outskirts of Newford, a world away from the Southwestern desert of her youth. Outsider her nighttime window, she often spies the dark men, squatting in the snow, smoking, brooding, waiting. She calls them los lobos , the wolves, and stays clear of them--until the night one follows her to the woods, and takes her hand.... Ellie, an independent young sculptor, is another with magic in her blood, but she refuses to believe it, even though she, too, sees the dark men. A strange old woman has summoned Ellie to Kellygnow to create a mask for her based on an ancient Celtic artifact. It is the mask of the mythic Summer King--another thing Ellie does not believe in. Yet lack of belief won't dim the power of the mast, or its dreadful intent. Donal, Ellie's former lover, comes from an Irish family and knows the truth at the heart of the old myths. He thinks he can use the mask and the "hard men" for his own purposes. And Donal's sister, Miki, a punk accordion player, stands on the other side of the Gentry's battle with the Native spirits of the land. She knows that more than her brother's soul is at stake. All of Newford is threatened, human and mythic beings alike. Once again Charles de Lint weaves the mythic traditions of many cultures into a seamless cloth, bringing folklore, music, and unforgettable characters to life on modern city streets.
Main Description
In the Old Country, they called them the Gentry: ancient spirits of the land, magical, amoral, and dangerous. When the Irish emigrated to North America, some of the Gentry followed... only to find that the New World already had spirits of its own, called manitou and other such names by the Native tribes.Now generations have passed, and the Irish have made homes in the new land, but the Gentry still wander homeless on the city streets. Gathering in the city shadows, they bide their time and dream of power. As their dreams grow harder, darker, fiercer, so do the Gentry themselves - appearing, to those with the sight to see them, as hard and dangerous men, invariably dressed in black.Bettina can see the Gentry, and knows them for what they are. Part Indian, part Mexican, she was raised by her grandmother to understand the spirit world. Now she lives in Kellygnow, a massive old house run as an arts colony on the outskirts of Newford, a world away from the Southwestern desert of her youth. Outsider her nighttime window, she often spies the dark men, squatting in the snow, smoking, brooding, waiting. She calls them los lobos , the wolves, and stays clear of them - until the night one follows her to the woods, and takes her hand... .Ellie, an independent young sculptor, is another with magic in her blood, but she refuses to believe it, even though she, too, sees the dark men. A strange old woman has summoned Ellie to Kellygnow to create a mask for her based on an ancient Celtic artifact. It is the mask of the mythic Summer King - another thing Ellie does not believe in. Yet lack of belief won't dim the power of the mast, or its dreadful intent.Donal, Ellie's former lover, comes from an Irish family and knows the truth at the heart of the old myths. He thinks he can use the mask and the "hard men" for his own purposes. And Donal's sister, Miki, a punk accordion player, stands on the other side of the Gentry's battle with the Native spirits of the land. She knows that more than her brother's soul is at stake. All of Newford is threatened, human and mythic beings alike.Once again Charles de Lint weaves the mythic traditions of many cultures into a seamless cloth, bringing folklore, music, and unforgettable characters to life on modern city streets.
Main Description
In the Old Country, they called them the Gentry: ancient spirits of the land, magical, amoral, and dangerous. When the Irish emigrated to North America, some of the Gentry followed...only to find that the New World already had spirits of its own, called manitou and other such names by the Native tribes. Now generations have passed, and the Irish have made homes in the new land, but the Gentry still wander homeless on the city streets. Gathering in the city shadows, they bide their time and dream of power. As their dreams grow harder, darker, fiercer, so do the Gentry themselves--appearing, to those with the sight to see them, as hard and dangerous men, invariably dressed in black. Bettina can see the Gentry, and knows them for what they are. Part Indian, part Mexican, she was raised by her grandmother to understand the spirit world. Now she lives in Kellygnow, a massive old house run as an arts colony on the outskirts of Newford, a world away from the Southwestern desert of her youth. Outsider her nighttime window, she often spies the dark men, squatting in the snow, smoking, brooding, waiting. She calls them los lobos, the wolves, and stays clear of them--until the night one follows her to the woods, and takes her hand.... Ellie, an independent young sculptor, is another with magic in her blood, but she refuses to believe it, even though she, too, sees the dark men. A strange old woman has summoned Ellie to Kellygnow to create a mask for her based on an ancient Celtic artifact. It is the mask of the mythic Summer King--another thing Ellie does not believe in. Yet lack of belief won't dim the power of the mast, or its dreadful intent. Donal, Ellie's former lover, comes from an Irish family and knows the truth at the heart of the old myths. He thinks he can use the mask and the "hard men" for his own purposes. And Donal's sister, Miki, a punk accordion player, stands on the other side of the Gentry's battle with the Native spirits of the land. She knows that more than her brother's soul is at stake. All of Newford is threatened, human and mythic beings alike. Once again Charles de Lint weaves the mythic traditions of many cultures into a seamless cloth, bringing folklore, music, and unforgettable characters to life on modern city streets.

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