A Favorite Author Doesn’t Disappoint

Patricia McKillip's Od MagicI love Patricia A. McKillip. I have been reading her books since I discovered her as a young adult in the mid-70’s and her gloriously romantic fantasy, The Forgotten Beasts of Eld. Now 30 years and 20 novels later, McKillip continues to entrance me with her latest work, Od Magic. Before I talk about this book, let me mentions something about McKillip’s work, most notably, her use of language. Words seem ironically inadequate to describe the skill with which McKillip spins the English language into magic. Lyrical is one word that is often used in reviews, but it’s so much more. Most of McKillip’s work deals with magic, and if there is any true magic in the world, I would suspect it would be found in her use of language. I could luxuriate in work written by McKillip regardless of the story, simply to enjoy her use of words. How double wonderful for me that she writes the kinds of stories that fill me with wonder and emotion.

Od Magic is in some ways, standard McKillip fare. It takes place in a land where magic is commonplace, found in mighty wizards, unlikely, unnoticed princesses, and lonely gardeners. It is populated by wise and misguided kings, and mysterious beings of great unknown power. Long ago, a wizard giantess named Od, saved the city of Keilor in exchange for the promise of a school of magic being founded there. In the centuries that have passed, the school has flourished, becoming part of Keilor’s royal palace, overseen by the King. Od has been seen less and less frequently, sometimes presumed dead, before mysteriously appearing again, this time to a solitary gardener with the curious ability to talk to plantlife. Od encourages Brenden, the gardener, to travel to the school. His appearances startles the complacent teacher Yar, who keeps the fact of Od’s reappearance to himself. You see, magic is now entirely under the province of the King. All magic must be learned at his school, and used for the protection of Keilor. All other magic is outlawed, so when rumours of a master illusionist Tyramin, performing in the city’s Twilight Quarter emerge, the city of Keilor is thrown into a tizzy.

It all sounds complicated, as most of McKillip’s storylines tend to be, but it is the strength of her characters that has always been her second strength, after the sorcery of her words. Heroism lurks in unlikely forms; villainy is often found in the form of misguided nobility. Love, like magic, is a powerful force that overpowers reason. In an ironic twist, the magic that threatens the stability of Keilor in Od Magic is one without words. The fact that McKillip would imbue the ultimate wonder in this world with such power without her own greatest strengh; words, provides an interesting twist.

I am so happy that Patricia A. McKillip is out there writing and filling my heart with wonder with each and every novel she writes. You can all take your Harry Potter, I’ll take a little odd magic anyday.

Choosing Sides at Sibling Rivalry

Sibling RivalryScot and I went to the hot new restaurant in the South End last night: Sibling Rivalry. The intersection of Tremont and Berkeley Streets is hoping to become an alternative to Boston’s lackluster theatre district. Already the home of the Cyclorama, and a pair of black box theatres that are part of the Boston Center for the Arts, the recent construction of the Calderwood Pavillion and the Atelier 505 building has added new elegance to the neighborhood. Sibling Rivalry is the dinner companion to the new theater located in the Calderwood Pavillion. We’d been aware of Sibling Rivalry for a while, but when my co-worker Maura mentioned it as the new hip place to eat, it became lodged in my brain as a place to check out.

We arrived as the restaurant opened at 5:30 since it was a Saturday night and hadn’t made reservations. My inital impressions were good, bolstered by the elegant decor, warm rust and purple design, and friendly hostess. Their specialty cocktails were funky and appealing, and both of scored with delicious drinks. I enjoyed El Diablo, a bold concoction of tequila, creme de cassis, blackberries and a splash of ginger ale, while Scot’s tart blend of gin, lime juice and mint was offset by a sugared rim. The dinner menu revolved around the two brothers who act as Sibling Rivalry’s chefs. Down the center of the menu is a list of key ingredients; arugala, garlic and rosemary; lamb; poultry, etc. To the right were the dishes created by Chef David and to the left, those created by Chef Bob. (The experience is reminiscent of Iron Chef.) The appetizers were printed in red and the main dishes in black. [On a side note, I read in today’s Boston Globe Magazine that a menu for the colorblind is available.]

Scot started with the four cheese raviloi appetizer followed by the braised and grilled lamb. I ordered the tuna tartare, with the mussells in a rosemary garlic cream sauce appetizer as my main course. Both of us were pleased with our first dishes. The tuna tarare arrived wrapped in a thin cucumber sheath, complimented by duck skin sushi rolls, two thin handmade potato chips, a delicious shallot garlic dipping sauce, and a tiny ball of wasabi. It was delicious and refreshing. Scot was quite taken with his four raviolis. Between courses, Scot ordered a glass of zinfandel, which I was not a fan of, but he enjoyed.

I was surprised by the size of the bowl of mussels that arrived shortly thereafter; it was, after all, listed as an appetizer. The rosemary garlic sauce was delicate and rich. I only had one bad mussel (it’s my own test of a restaurants ability to do mussels — B&G Oysters, ltd. is the all-time mussel champion) but a couple were a little rubbery. All in all a pleasant if not perfect mussel experience. Unfortunately, Scot’s lamb dish was less successful. The sauce was a bit sweet, the braised portion incredibly dry, and the grilled lamb alternately tender and tough.

For desert I opted for the warm, chocolate sourdough cake with sliced peaches and a peach sorbet (which Scot enjoyed.) The cake was nice and semi-sweet, and deliciously rich. No complaints there. I had hoped to enjoy desert with a nice cognac, but their choices were on the expensive side. Scot finished off with his signature Knob Creek neat.

Scot was disappointed with his entree, and I noted that the lamb dish was the only selection we sampled from Chef Bob’s side of the menu. Chef David’s offerrings were uniformly enjoyed. We thought it might be a nice touch for a board to hang by the kitchen marking which chef’s received the most orders, thereby enhancing the rivalry inherent in the menu’s presentation.

Ultimately we decided that Sibling Rivalry was fairly overpriced, entrees in the high $20’s. If the food had been exquisite, the price would have been worth it. Despite the hype, if I want to spend that much for a meal, I will stick to a reliable favorite in Aquitaine. And if the need to feel hip and trendy strikes, I’ll cross the street and hit B&G Oysters. I doubt that we will visit Sibling Rivalry again, giving David and Bob another chance to show that their food matches their ambience, but our first experience was less than stellar.

Remember grade school, when everyone was ‘gay?’

Michael’s friend Shirley was visiting this week from Alabama. Today, she brought her three kids into the city to visit Michael at work. While they were in his office, Michael was pointing out our cool wedding announcement to Shirley.

“You mean you guys are married?” asks Eric, who’s about seven years old.

“Yep,” says Michael. “We can do that in Massachusetts or in Canada.”

“If you were in Alabama, you’d be gay.”