The Saint of Bright Doors

"Yes! And it was also nominated for the Hugo. I think it’s a fantastic debut; I can’t wait to see more from Chandrasekera. We follow Fetter, the child of a god with an unwanted destiny. He is touched by magical power in ways more unsettling than useful – he is missing his shadow, he is able to see the creepy demons that shuffle among humans, and he’s in danger of floating if he doesn’t concentrate on staying grounded. He lives in the immediately-believable city of Luriat, where ‘bright doors’ are a nuisance: any door left shut for too long may refuse to open again, and become one of the city’s sacred doors. Some keen enthusiasts try to study them, while most people ignore them – one of the many ways in which this invented society feels utterly human and real. The book slowly crosses from the familiar-feeling to the numinous, as the powers controlling Fetter’s life mount. His godlike father returns, and his destiny begins to take hold. From here things cross into a mythic, spell-like mode. A fabulous debut – highly recommended."

"Fetter is unchosen: his deified father did not take him on as a Saint, but left him instead with vengeful Mother-of-Glory. She raises him as a weapon to kill his father. Refusing this destiny, Fetter tries to make himself a new life in the city of Luriat, joining a support group for other unchosen children and navigating city life as best he can. Luriati culture is full of fascinating touches, but one is key: in Luriat, all doors must have a window or opening of some kind. A solid door left closed for too long is in danger of sealing itself shut, vanishing from the other side, and becoming the strange Luriati phenomenon known as a Bright Door. Of course, Fetter cannot so easily leave his past behind. For a start, he has no shadow, can float, and sees devils. But more to the point neither Mother-of-Glory nor his father, the Perfect and Kind, will allow it. His destined patricide puts him in tension with forces both mundane and supramundane, driving the novel’s tension. The world of The Saint of Bright Doors feels real, as though Luriat and Fetter’s village of Acusdab might just be places you haven’t visited yet. The Bright Doors receive just the right amount and kind of attention from the Luriati, so that they feel like one of the unexplained phenomena of our own world; Fetter treats his hidden abilities to float and see devils just as any of us might treat a shameful difference or secret. This sense of reality is a fine art. In the novel’s more surreal passages, Chandrasekera achieves the equally-difficult quality of a dreamlike higher reality, that sits beyond the logic of our surface world but doesn’t seem less satisfying for it – rather it seems, somehow, more true. The Saint of Bright Doors is an astonishing debut. Writing for The New York Times , Amal El-Mohtar called it “the best book I’ve read all year. Protean, singular, original… I can’t remember the last time a book made me so excited about its existence, its casual challenge to what a fantasy novel could be.”"

"This is easily the book I’ve recommended to friends most often this past year – I think it’s one of those rare books that will please fantasy readers while also winning over non-fantasy readers. A real pleasure. Fetter is the son of a god. His mother wants him to commit patricide. He is not so keen. After an introductory look at his childhood, we meet adult Fetter, who wants to live in the nearest cosmopolitan city, go to a support group for the children of deities, and move on with his life. This is complicated by the inconvenient side effects of his legacy. He has no shadow, floats if he doesn’t concentrate, and can see the unsettling hoards of demons that cling to the sides of buildings and shuffle along ordinary streets. Other than this, he is getting on alright, to begin with – until his father comes to town. His world feels utterly real. Magic is mostly present in the form of minor unexplained phenomena, or religion; its creeping intrusion into Fetter’s life happens in a dreamlike way, and we are led expertly from magic-as-everyday to magic-as-numinous. A real masterclass in fantasy writing, and a joy to read."

"I really loved this book! It is the rare fantasy world that feels completely real, and at the same time strange and sublime in places. It put me in mind of Diana Wynne Jones , although she writes primarily for children; Chandrasekera has the same light touch, whereby high magical stakes can feel somehow secondary to your delight in exploring the world – a high stakes story that reads like a low fantasy, in the best possible way. We are following Fetter, the child of a god-like figure called ‘The Perfect and Kind.’ The Perfect and Kind abandoned both Fetter and his mother. The mother wants Fetter to assassinate his father; Fetter wants to live a normal life in the nearest big city, attend his support group for the unchosen children of powerful parents, and forget about it all. This is, of course, impossible. “The Hugo Award has been a fixture for speculative fiction since 1953” The city of Luriat feels South Asian – Chandrasekera is Sri Lankan – and entirely convincing. The magic woven throughout is beautifully strange. Fetter can see devils of all sorts that other people don’t, clinging to the sides of buildings or shuffling horribly down streets. His father’s Saints have powers of their own – one spends days surveilling the city from the skies, pacing in strange patterns overhead. And of course there are the bright doors: doors that were left closed too long, and now won’t open again. In Luriat, all doors are required to have openings or windows, to prevent them turning into bright doors. Yes! Things don’t really enter the realm of the surreal until Fetter goes to prison. Here, he walks and walks: you first realise that the prison seems to be a sort of city in itself, then slowly gain the impression that it is more than this, somewhere slightly beyond the normal rules of space and time. From this point on, the magic is more impressionistic and strange. Chandrasekera has led us masterfully to this point, so that we are ready for the more dream-like passages."